The Great Pretender
by Fox Trot 9
Summary: Ruzaki Toyoda, an heir to the Toyota company, aspires to be a poet to avoid becoming a future owner of the Toyoda legacy, but his poetry sucks. When he gets in trouble with Haruhi, he gets himself dragged into the Host Club! Meanwhile Tamaki and the twins get in trouble with Kyoya! Even their guests get into the act! See it all in this crazy episode of Ouran High School Host Club!
1. Shenanigans

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Ouran Highschool Host Club. © Bisco Hatori

* * *

**Chapter 1: Shenanigans**

* * *

At 3:05 p.m. on the grounds of the South Campus of Ouran Academy, near a fountain with a cherub pissing endlessly into the water, there sat by the pond's edge the present subject of this narrative. He sat at the corner of the pond, deep in concentration over his notepad, pen in hand and poised on scratching out the next few lines. His expression seemed to waver between hope and despair, between courage and cowardice, his creativity struggling to burst through the surface.

He struggled; 2nd-year English Literature majors like himself rarely struggled to get the words out on paper, but here he was doing just that and gaining nothing beyond the first four lines of drivel for his efforts. At times like these (which happened far too often, sadly), he would cast his gaze towards the pissing cherub in the center of the pond, listening to the sound of splashing water that used to compose his thoughts so well. He looked and listened, but not even the soothing music of water worked on him now.

Still, he worked at it in cold blood. For five more minutes, he wracked his brains over the words, the rhythm and the rhyme, trying valiantly to come up with a miracle that would release him from his blockage and send him on a writing binge, but to no avail.

_Damn it all!_ he thought, and crumpled up yet another sheet and threw it into the pond, where it floated for a minute or so before sinking beneath the surface. Other crumpled balls of paper lay at the bottom of the pond, slowly dissolving away.

He then rubbed at his temples to ease away the frustrations of yet another failure, before stealing yet another glance of himself in the reflection shimmering on the surface. He sure as hell didn't look like a poet—brown hair with no shine, dark eyes with no luster, a youthful face with no indication of poetic expression in spoken or written words.

_Maybe he's right, after all_, he thought. _Maybe it was a mistake to go against his wishes—no! I won't give him the satisfaction!_

"That's littering, you know."

Here he turned from his thoughts, barely comprehending the words spoken to him, and saw someone he'd never seen before. Still, in the present circumstances, one would've mistaken them as cousins, or even brother and sister, though neither shared any familial relationship past a passing resemblance. "Wait, what did you say? I didn't catch what you said."

"You're littering. If you need to throw paper away, throw it in the trash can and not in the pond."

"Oh, sorry about that," he said, then went silent; he had no idea what else to say or do to placate the interest he attracted today. So he did the only sensible thing he could do: he took off his loafers and socks, rolled up his pants and the sleeves of his blue blazer and undershirt, then waded in the shallows picking up soggy clumps of paper.

Viewing this gave Haruhi a sense of deja vu, as she remembered barely a week ago that she occupied a similar position, while she was searching for her wallet wading in and getting herself wet, with Tamaki wading in with her. Now, however, this boy occupied her former position wading through the water amid the lilies, while she occupied Tamaki's looking from the water's edge. So she followed precedent, took off shoes and socks, rolled up her pants and sleeves and waded in with him.

The boy turned and said, "Oh, I didn't mean for you to help me. I can do it on my—"

"A little water never hurt anyone." Haruhi stopped; she had repeated Tamaki's same words to the letter, and with similar intent, even. In the two weeks she had known Tamaki in all his eccentricities, she never thought she would take after him in that way, which made her question her sanity. She thought, _There's no way in hell, Haruhi; it's just too weird_, and left it at that, picking up more soggy wads of paper and placing them in a soggy pile at the water's edge.

"Oh, okay. Thank you," the boy said, as he hauled his own pile of wet paper clumps next to hers, before wading in again to gather more. "I never really had anyone help me before, so I really appreciate it."

"You're welcome, but seriously, this is a lot of paper in the pond. And from the looks of it, they all came from the same notepad. How long have you been here?" she said.

"This is my second year at the South Campus."

_Then that would make you my senpai, then_. "I'm sorry. What I meant is, how long have you been at this pond? There are better places to study than here, you know."

He turned to Haruhi, saying, "Well, four days if you include today. I didn't go into any of the libraries; they were too noisy. This fountain is the quietest place I could find that's near my classes, and I kinda like the sound of the water here, along with the scenery. It makes for good inspiration, I think." After that, he returned to finding more clumps of damp paper.

Haruhi noted with a somewhat pleasant surprise that the boy had none of the eccentric qualities of her fellow hosts, nor any of the fangirl fanaticisms of the host club clientele. _Finally, someone who's actually NORMAL, for once!_ Still, she detected something off in his answer, so she picked up and un-crumpled one of the less soggy clumps and read the contents. "Oh, are you an English Lit. major? If you are, then you might want to get out of your shell a bit, if you're looking for inspiration."

"Wait, WHAT!" When the boy turned around, he almost had a heart attack at the sight of her holding an opened sheet of soggy paper. "Don't read that! Gimmie that!" And without so much as waiting for her to 'give' it, he lunged forward and snatched it out of her hand, himself all flustered and red-faced, before he lost his footing and took her down with him in a _splash!_

Once the waves reduced to mere ripples in the pond, both individuals were soaking wet, Haruhi 'on the bottom' looking up at him in confusion, and the boy 'on top' looking down at her, shocked and, well . . . Mere nanoseconds elapsed, till both parties recovered enough to be aware of their positions, when realization struck them both. As a result of the accident in the pond where the cherub pissed into the water without fail, Haruhi found herself being fondled at the same instant that the boy realized he was fondling her right breast beneath her blazer.

Instantly the boy got off of her before Haruhi had any inclination to slap him, although she struggled to keep herself in check. She just sat there, pulling her blazer over her molested chest, not knowing whether to scream at him or just laugh it all off.

In the end, she chose the latter option, laughing as though she were exorcising the need to scream, then said, "You need to be careful next time. You never know who might be watching," before getting herself to her feet.

As for the unfortunate poetaster, he shrank away from her cringing in fear behind the pissing cherub. "Please don't hurt me! I didn't mean it, I swear!"

"Hey, you're not in any danger, okay? I'm not mad at you; I'm just . . . surprised, that's all," she said, which exampled her tendency to understate things. "Honest, I'm not gonna kill you."

* * *

As it turned out, something more auspicious lay in store for the boy in the form of the Third Music Room of the South Campus, when Hikaru said, "Hey, Boss, you might want to look at this."

"Haruhi's in the pond with another guy," continued Kaoru, beckoning Tamaki to the window overlooking the pond.

Said 'Boss' looked up from his conference with Kyoya in deciding the next theme for the host club itinerary, while Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai (accompanied by his Usa-chan) drank tea and ate cake at a nearby table.

"What's she doing in the pond?" Tamaki said. "And what other guy are you talking about?"

Kyoya, Mori and Honey looked at the twins.

The Hitachiin twins, in turn, looked at one another and smiled mischievous smiles that would've made their customers squeal. It was high time to mess with their doting king again. "We don't know, Boss. We witnessed the whole thing, and you won't believe what just happened."

"What is it? What happened?" Tamaki rushed to the window and stood in between the twins and beheld the concluding scene of the last act between Haruhi and the unknown boy, still cowering behind the cherub, apparently still afraid of the female host. "What's going on down there?"

Hikaru said, "We saw that guy asking Haruhi to help him pick up stuff from the pond—"

"—and she helped him," added Kouru.

As vague and innocent as that statement sounded to any sane person, any connection to Haruhi made it instantly suspicious in Tamaki's daughter-complex. In fact, in the theater of his mind, he saw a shady yakuza kid leading on an adorably innocent Haruhi into the pond with him. "B-but I told my daughter never to talk to strangers."

"And that guy turned on her and actually took her down with her," said the twins in unison, which was only half true, of course.

But it had it's effect, when in Tamaki's mind, he saw to his horror that shady yakuza kid attacking poor Haruhi in the water, grabbing hold of both her wrists while she struggled to get free, before tackling her till he was 'on top' of her and getting ready to—

In that instant, Tamaki's expression turned from horrified to blood-and-guts vengeance that would've done Kyoya proud, though the true depths of the Shadow King's awesome power remains unfathomable. In that instant, I say, Tamaki sped through the double doors and down the hall, where the echo of "Daddy's coming, Haruhi! I shall smite thine assailant and preserve thine innocence!" resounded throughout.

Instead of laughing their guts out, both twins just looked at each other and realized the error of their ruse. "Wait, Boss, it was just a joke! We were just kidding around!" they both yelled, both terrified at the consequences of sending an enraged Tamaki upon the unwitting instrument of their shenanigans.

They raced down the North Corridor, then down the two flights of the Grand Staircase of red carpet and pink stucco, literally sliding down the traceried railing of the last flight of stairs somehow without falling off, then dashed through the main foyer of massive vaulted ceilings and columns past several startled onlookers, including many of the host club clientele. Once they reached the entrance, they dashed across the courtyard past manicured bushes and giant flower pots and more startled onlookers before taking a side entrance into the secluded garden that was to become (in their minds, at least) the scene of an outrage neither twin wanted on his conscience.

"Damn it, Kaoru, if the club gets suspended because of this, I'm blaming _you_ for starting it!"

"You agreed to this, too, Hikaru! We're both at fault if the boss gets in trouble!"

Before their argument escalated into a real quarrel, however, they were met with a scene neither twin anticipated. For by the pond's edge, a wet and scared Tamaki was at the mercy of one of Haruhi's tirades, as she interrogated her senpai beneath her ever-growing glare.

But let's back up a moment and follow the whole progression of this scene.

* * *

Mere minutes before the twins reached the pond, Tamaki had just reached the water's edge where Haruhi was just beginning to convince the hapless poet that she had no murderous designs on him. In fact, Haruhi had managed to coax the boy from his abode behind the cherub, when Tamaki lunged forward across the water kung-fu style and screamed, "Tama-chan kick," connecting with the poet's face and sending him spinning a few feet before landing in the water with another bigger _splash!_

A wave lurched forward in the wake of that splash, overflowing the pond's banks and sending a shallow deluge spreading across the flagstoned grounds.

"Senpai! What was _that_ for?"

"It's my payback for his attack on you. Now stay behind me," he said, making sure to put himself between his daughter and the man that was just beginning to get himself up on all fours. "There's no telling what that yakuza kid might do!"

But she ran towards him, anyway.

"Haruhi, don't!" And an overprotective Tamaki grabbed a hold of Haruhi's arm, but she turned around and slapped him dead in the face, stunning him for some moments, before she ran to the boy's assistance.

"Are you all right?" she said, helping the boy to his feet and leading him towards the water's edge, before she helped him up to dry ground. "I'm so sorry, sir . . . I didn't mean for you to get hit like that."

Tamaki couldn't believe his eyes. In fact, the slap seemed to dissipate all conscious thought out of his head, leaving him mute as well as stunned. When he finally regained his sanity, his immediate thoughts centered on two questions: Why would his own daughter slap him after he tried to save her from her attacker? On top of that, why would his own daughter _help_ her attacker? In the end, he had no idea; for all he knew, the answer to both questions could be the reason why rape victims sometimes fell in love with their rapists.

"And as for _you_, Tamaki-senpai," she said, turning her attention to the man, "do you realize I could have you reported for this?"

That threat brought him back to reality right quick. The mere thought of having to answer his own father, the Chairman of Ouran Academy, for his brash conduct against another student made his knees quiver and his face lose color. "B-b-but that man just attacked you . . ."

"He never _attacked_ me, Senpai!"

"B-b-but, you know . . ." He faltered, trying to find the right words to placate his furious daughter. "S-sometimes a rape victim falls in love with her rapist, and . . ."

"Wait, _WHAT?_ What the hell does _that_ have to do with it? He never raped me! He just overreacted to what I said, and then he tripped and fell over me, you idiot! I can't believe you would actually think like that!"

The transformation between the two parties got more and more drastic, as Tamaki shrank away from Haruhi's growing glare that rivaled the flames of Hades, turning the poor man as white as paper. In fact, to the twins who had just arrived at this critical juncture, it seemed as though Tamaki was the guilty defendant and Haruhi was the angry judge, jury and executioner. Slowly, so that neither party noticed they were there, the two tiptoed away from the scene as quietly as possible.

"B-b-b-but I . . . I . . . I thought he hurt you."

"He didn't. God, where did you get that idea?"

Right on cue, both parties turned to the instigators in question—the Hitachiin twins.

"Stop right there, you two!"

Both twins froze on the spot, mere feet away from exiting the scene of their demise, before turning their heads towards their colleague. The mere sight of an angry Haruhi made their knees quiver and turned their faces blue.

"That goes for you, too, Tamaki!"

And just like that, the Host Club King froze like a statue in the water, caught in his attempt to escape.

"Senpai, stop rushing to conclusions; it just might save you life!" Then to the twins. "And you two, you should stop egging him on!" Then she addressed all three delinquents like a drill sergeant. "Now I want you to apologize to that man over there, got it?"

Instantly, all three stood at attention and said, in unison, "Yes, ma'am!" and apologized to the victim of their shenanigans, almost prostrating themselves to his feet as though they were his supplicants.

The poetaster just stood there in shock, receiving their grave apologies with the embarrassment of an honored guest. "Uh, thank you . . . Um, you guys don't have to do that, though," he added, as all three took their deepest bows of humility over and over. "An honest apology is enough." Silence. "Wait a minute . . ." He then turned to Haruhi and said, "Ma'am? They called you, 'Ma'am'? Wait, are you a . . . a . . . girl?"

At this, the three male host club members turned into statues, while Haruhi was at a loss for words to explain. When the three men turned to their female host, they faced another of her glares that turned the bumbling morons to dust in a non-existent breeze.

"Yeah, I am a girl," she said, turning to the poet.

"Uh . . . Dare I ask why you're dressing in a _man's_ uniform?"

"Oh, it's nothing serious. It's just that circumstances require me to dress this way," she said, downplaying the fact that she had an ¥8,000,000 debt to pay off from her misadventure with an antique vase. So she changed the subject. "Anyway, I hope you don't report these men to the dean's office. It would be really bad for the club activities we're hosting."

"Don't worry, I won't do that. Besides, it was all just a misunderstanding anyway, so I have no reason for turning them in. Oh, and I . . . Um . . . About that part where I lost my balance and fell on top of you . . . I, uh . . ." he said, blushing at the fact that he had cupped a woman's breast. "I'm sorry about the moment when I . . . Well . . . You know . . ."

At first, none of the hosts knew what he was talking about, but Haruhi caught onto his drift soon enough. "Oh, that, well, be careful next time. If it had been with another girl, you would have gotten into a lot of trouble, but I'll let it slide, since I know it was an accident."

Luckily for the poet, Tamaki and the Hitachiin twins didn't pick up on the implied meaning of their conversation.

"Okay, thank you," he said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Oh, and about your gender, I won't tell about that if you don't want me to."

"Oh, no, that's all right. You could tell whoever you want. Just not to any of our costumers, because that would be kind of . . . inconvenient if they knew," she said, taking care not to allude to her debt. "Anyway, about your writing—"

"Oh, about that . . . Well, it's just a hobby of mine. It's nothing serious, really," the boy said. "I just write whenever I feel like it, that's all."

"Well, if you're looking for a better place to write, maybe you could try the Third Music Room during our club activities. I think that would give you the inspiration you're looking for in your poetry."

At the word 'poetry', Tamaki and the twins looked at the boy. They've heard of him before, though their memories were a bit sketchy after today's mix-up.

As for the poet, he blushed at the mention of his poetry. _Dear God, she knows! How much did she read before I took it off her hands? Oh, God, she must think I'm a really terrible poet._ "Uh, wouldn't that interfere with your club activities?"

"Not at all. In fact, I think the customers in our club would like to have a poet to talk to—you know, just to mix things up a little bit and make things more interesting? What do you say?"

"Uh . . . Okay. I mean, it couldn't hurt to find new sources of inspiration, would it? I'll take you up on that! Well . . ." And he turned to the the three male host club members. "If that's all right with you, gentlemen, that is."

Tamaki and the twins were about to voice their protests in the interests of protecting Haruhi's secret from the host club clientele, but Haruhi's glare changed their minds.

"It's fine by us, sir," they all said in unison, all three feeling the backs of their necks burn from Haruhi's menacing glare.

"By the way, what's you're name?" asked Haruhi.

"Oh, pardon me for not introducing myself when I first met you. I'm Ruzaki Toyoda," he said, making his first proper introduction to his new acquaintances.

Apparently, that's all it took to jog the memories of the three male hosts. At the mention of that name, all the hosts except for Haruhi stared at Ruzaki with wide-eyed amazement as they beheld another notorious member of Ouran Academy.

* * *

3:35 p.m. at the Third Music Room saw all the hosts and Ruzaki gathered around a table with everyone standing except for Kyoya and Ruzaki. While Kyoya typed something on his Pineapple computer and reviewed the printouts of an impromptu dossier, Ruzaki sat opposite from him, leaning back on his chair and feeling nervous.

"I've heard a lot about you, Ruzaki Toyoda. You're the second son of Akio Toyoda, who is the current president and CEO of the Toyota Motor Corporation," Kyoya said, checking off the facts of Ruzaki's connections and life. "Your older brother, Akira Toyoda, works as as assistant engineer in the corporation after graduating as a valedictorian from Keio University, the same university your father attended, while _you_ have gained quite a reputation for defying your father's wishes here at Ouran Academy. Just before your tenure in the South Campus, you had a falling out with your father at the dean's office when you disputed the major your father wanted for you, opting for an English Lit. degree instead of a law degree. Since then, he has all but disowned you, relegating your living quarters away from the Toyoda mansion at Toyota City, in Aichi Prefecture, to one of the smaller family mansions near Bunkyo, Tokyo. Once a month, he allocates just ¥100,000 for your living expenses, just high enough to meet the requirements of a commoner. As such, you are one of the least active members of the English Literature Club, and by all accounts from your class conduct and general disposition amongst the studentry of this school, you are soft-spoken and deferential to authority in all matters, except for that one matter with your father for which you have shown no inclination for compromise. I dare say, that makes you almost as notorious as Haruhi."

Ruzaki looked at the cross dresser standing at Kyoya's right side before returning to the man. "Why's she notorious? Is it because she's posing as a guy?"

"Nobody outside this conference is aware of Haruhi's true gender, and we plan on keeping it that way. No, she's notorious for being the only scholarship student from humble origins in the entire campus with enough nerve to attend this school. Her financial position is similar to your own with your father, though she was born a commoner, while your actions landed you on the cusp of a family disgrace."

"I'm not a disgrace!"

"I'm not suggesting that you are; I'm only stating the facts as I see them," Kyoya said, before he continued on. "Now because of the trouble Tamaki caused you earlier, I've temporarily taken over the duties allocated to him as acting Host Club King and delayed the usual opening of this club twenty minutes past the usual time. After talking the matter over with Haruhi, I will let you take part in this club's activities to help you in your poetic endeavors. All I ask of you is that you don't reveal the names of our clients to any of your associates in the English Literature Club, or reveal Haruhi's true gender to anyone outside of this conference. Now do you agree to these terms?"

After hearing his life splayed out on a platter for the others to scrutinize, Ruzaki became more and more uncomfortable under the steely gaze of the Shadow King. He had heard a lot about the third son of the Ootori Medical zaibatsu, including but not limited to Kyoya's cut-throat intelligence and mafiosi-like connections; thus, his first five minutes with Kyoya made his palms sweat. _I'd hate to be around him when he's angry_, he thought, but he nevertheless agreed to his terms.

"Good," Kyoya said, "but you sill perplex me. Given the current state with your finances and with your father, why did you do it? More important, why do you _persist_ in defying your father?"

At first, he was tongue-tied, so he took the short answer—silence.

When Ruzaki stayed silent, Kyoya prodded him with another question. "Surely, your father knows what's best for you, doesn't he?"

"No, he doesn't."

"Are you sure? A position in his company would have you much better off than what you could manage on your own."

"It's not about money. I can care less about following in my brother's footsteps, let alone my father's."

Everyone around the table looked at Ruzaki with varying degrees of surprise on their faces, from Mori's imperceptible reactions to the Hitachiin twins' looks of perplexity to everyone else's look of undisguised amazement. Even Kyoya, the money-man of the host club, couldn't help but look at the man as though he had a screw loose in his head somewhere.

"Then why are you doing it, if not for money?" Kyoya said.

"Money isn't everything. I know that if I follow in my father's footsteps, I will be in my brother's shadow for as long as I live, and I'd be wasting my life on something I'd rather not do."

"So you know what you _don't_ want to do. But what do you want to _do_? What do you want to _be_?"

"God, you sound like my homeroom teacher! What the hell does that have to do with you?"

At this, a little bit of the demon in Kyoya surfaced through his eyes in a flash, barely enough time to register any change in his facial expression, but it was enough to spook everyone except for Mori around the table, including Ruzaki, who fidgeted in his chair. In fact, he felt his heart skip a beat.

Kyoya was about to say something caustic, when Haruhi intervened and whispered something in his ear, which made his features relax and regain more of his charming self. "A poet? Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?"

Ruzaki couldn't answer that either, because he didn't know why he couldn't answer, so he just stayed mute.

"Once again, Ruzaki, why do you want to be a poet?"

Silence on Ruzaki's part. Then he said, "I want to be remembered for something other than what my father has for me."

"So in other words, you want to become a poet, so you won't have to work in your father's company—is that right?"

"That's right," he said, looking down.

"Then you're not being true to yourself."

Ruzaki looked up at that statement, meeting Kyoya's eyes for the first time in the interview. "What do you mean by that?"

"Look at everyone around you. Everyone in this room, except you, knows what they want to do after they graduate from this school."

"And what does _that_ have to do with it?"

"It has _everything_ to do with it," Kyoya said. "Everything you've told me, thus far, makes me believe that you only want to become a poet, because you _don't_ want to become like your brother or your father."

"But I _do_ have the heart of a poet, whether you believe me or not!"

"It's not about what I believe, or what your father believes, or what anybody else believes. It's about what you believe. You might have the heart of a poet, but that heart is in the wrong place."

"And what do you know about poetry? You're a host, not a poet."

"In every host, there is a poet. I know this far more than you do, and so does everyone else in this room. Poetry is more than just rhyme, meter and scansion. There's a human element to poetry, in which we express our feelings to others (whether it's joy, sadness, excitement, or love) and have them feel as we feel—feel as we _want_ them to feel for their pleasure and for our satisfaction. If you want to become a true poet, Toyoda, you must become a host of this club for the rest of this week. In that time, you will observe how we impress the ladies and apply those observations in your writing. If you can move someone's heart in person, face to face, you can move that person's heart on the page. Now I hope I made myself clear."

At first, Ruzaki couldn't speak; Kyoya's words, so artfully composed and so eloquently delivered, dissipated his will to speak the moment he realized the meaning behind his argument. So he said, "I understand."

"Good. You'll begin as soon as this club opens for business, which is . . ."—and here he checked his watch—"five minutes from now. As for the plans of this week, Tamaki and I decided on poetry as this week's theme. As such, the topics will whet the poetic appetites of our guests, from Basho, Dante, Shakespeare and Milton to Wordsworth, Byron and Keats and more."

"And it will end with a poetry recital," added Tamaki, all smiles with his sparkly panache that would send many of his customers swooning into his arms, "of our very own poetic creations to our guests."

The hapless poet turned around in his chair and looked at Tamaki, still all smiles and still full of his poetic reveries, and said, "A . . . poetry recital?"

"Yes," said Tamaki. "We'll show our poetic prowess to the world!"

At those words, Ruzaki's face turned blue. "In front of people?"

"Why, yes." The man stopped his reveries when he noticed Ruzaki's nervous face. "Why, what's wrong? Did I say something to offend you?"

The Hitachiin twins, standing on either side of Ruzaki, got in his face and said, in unison, "Do you have stage fright?"

Without even acknowledging it in words, Ruzaki confirmed their suspicions in action, sweating at the temples and grabbing at his knees to keep them from shaking.

"Yep," they said, "just as we thought. This guy's a wallflower, _Boss_," referring to Kyoya instead of Tamaki, thereby giving another cheap shot to their deposed king that sent the former king to the farthest corner of the room to sulk and grow mushrooms.

While Tamaki preoccupied himself with mushroom agriculture, Kyoya said, "Ah, I was wondering why you were so nervous."

At this, Ruzaki gulped.

"As for you two," Kyoya continued, indicating the twins with a glare of his own, "since you instigated Tamaki into attacking this man, you two must share the consequences."

The Shadow King's words roused Tamaki from his lonely corner with a flash of vengeance in his eyes, dashing up to the conference table and intimidating the hell out of the twins to great effect, till Kyoya dashed his hopes.

"That goes for you, as well, Tamaki. Even though you didn't start it, your actions are unjustified." Here, Kyoya rested both elbows on the table, clenched his hands together as though he was praying and looked up at the trio of troublemakers with another demonic flash over his glasses, and said, "Now I _could_ disallow all three of you from entertaining your customers for the rest of this week, but that wouldn't be practical for the expenses of this club. Therefore, I'll let you have your customers, but on one condition: all three of you must help Ruzaki Toyoda overcome his stage fright. If you fail to help him, I will report all three of you to the dean's office. And if you think I'm bluffing, I'm not; I've already got the video evidence stored in my laptop, just one email away from the Chairman."

All color drained out of their faces, as they stood there gaping at the sheer unfathomable evil of the Shadow King.

"H-h-how can you be so _cruel?_" they all said, in unison and in utter gut-wrenching shock.

"Oh, it's not my idea. It was Haruhi's."

The shell-shocked trio looked at Haruhi, whose lips curled into the most evil smile ever to grace a woman's face. Thus, overcome by the sheer magnitude of it all, they did the only sensible thing any man could do in their position.

They fainted.

* * *

**(To be continued...)**

* * *

A/N: Anyway, in writing this chapter I've learned a LOT about the Japanese school system as well as the basic ins and outs of the characters. God, I HOPE none of the characters are OOC! Also, I hope Ruzaki isn't too much of a self-inserted Mary Sue. I don't want him to hog all of the spot light, just share it with the Host Club.


	2. First Impressions

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Ouran Highschool Host Club. © Bisco Hatori

* * *

**Chapter 2: First Impressions**

* * *

_Only those with excellent social standings and those from filthy rich families are lucky enough to spend their time here, at the elite private school, Ouran Academy. The Ouran Host Club is where the school's most handsomest boys with too much time on their hands entertain young ladies who also have way too much time on their hands. Just think of it as Ouran Academy's elegant playground for the super rich and beautiful_.

—Tamaki Suoh

* * *

Several customers surrounded the salon sofas on which Tamaki and the Hitachiin twins lay, all of them worried about their bodily conditions after the day's strenuous exercises at P.E., as Kyoya explained to them after they entered the Third Music Room. He placated their worries somewhat, reassuring them that they were just tired and needed some rest, and that they'd be their usual entertaining selves by tomorrow. Till then, Kyoya assured them, they could content themselves over watching them sleep, which they readily agreed to, as they never saw them sleep before. They even found it kind of cute, if voyeurism could be considered cute.

In fact, they got out their cameras and took pictures of Tamaki and the twins sleeping. On the left sofa, Tamaki slept like a king on his death bed, his face serene and handsome like that of Napoleon's even in the eternal sleep of death. On the other sofa, Hikaru slept in a slouching position, leaning to the left over the arm rest with his head leaning over his shoulder and with his mouth open, while Kaoru slept on his left side with his head resting over his brother's lap, garnering many giggles and comments from the yaoi fangirls among their onlookers.

"They're still out, Kyoya-senpai," Haruhi said after checking on the sleepers for the second time after the club opened for business, thinking, _Gee, maybe I should apologize to them afterwards. I only played along when I smiled at them, but I never thought they'd faint like that. Then again, I think Kyoya went a little overboard with the way he said it, too_.

"Hm. Well, let me know when they wake up," Kyoya said, before turning around and smiling one of his cloak-and-dagger smiles. "Oh, and one more thing: I do realize that I may have gone too far in my threat. But remember, it was your idea, Haruhi, not mine."

A chill went up Haruhi's spine. _How does he get into my head like that? He's gotta be some kind of psychic or something_, she thought without wanting to find out. _Then there's Ruzaki-senpai. I wonder how he's holding up_.

As it turned out, it wasn't too good. In fact, when Haruhi returned to her table, she saw her two best customers (Momoka Kurakano and Kimiko Sakurazuka) looking nervous in front of the poetaster, who was leaning over the table with his head in his arms and sulking in embarrassment.

She said, "Sorry about that. I had to check up on Tamaki-senpai and the twins. They're still out, it looks like . . ." She then leaned in between the two girls and said, "What just happened?"

"Uh, it's kind of hard to explain," Momoka whispered.

"Wait, what do you mean?"

"Well," Kimiko whispered, "first, he tried to do a weird imitation of how Kyoya-senpai explains things, and he ended up not making any sense."

Her observation put an arrow in his side.

"When we asked him to clarify what he meant," added Momoka, "he started sulking."

Her observation put another bigger arrow in his back.

These facts left Haruhi silent for a moment, as she thought about the poor man's situation, then said, "Ruzaki-senpai, do you have an inferiority complex?"

That bluntest of questions took the shape of an enormous arrow that almost bowled the poor man over, before he recovered just enough to raise his unworthy head to meet the eyes of someone worthier than he. Faced with another example of his failure, he admitted with a nod of his head yet another of his foibles for all to scrutinize.

"That's okay," said Haruhi, taking a seat between Ruzaki and the girls. "Not everyone's perfect."

"I know. I'll never _be_ perfect."

"No. That's not what I meant. I meant that nobody's perfect. Not even Tamaki-senpai or Kyoya-senpai are perfect. If they were, they'd be boring, and not as many girls would be into them. I know that might sound counter-intuitive, but honestly, if life was perfect, we wouldn't strive to be anything other than what we are. We wouldn't have any aspirations for the future, or any childhood day dreams, for that matter. If everyone and everything was perfect, then there wouldn't be any need for a host club to fulfill the desires and fantasies of any of the girls here. That's why we have faults. They make us more human, more relatable, more interesting and more fun; they make us who we want to be by giving us a reason to overcome them. Trust me, I know. I may not have been born rich, but I made it to this school, because I have something to shoot for. Someday you'll know what to shoot for, too."

Ruzaki couldn't help staring at her after she made her speech, his expression fixed between admiration and revelation, a sentiment shared with Momoka and Kimiko, their cheeks rosy and their eyes wide and on the verge of tears. And like clockwork, both girls squealed after listening to such a beautiful and uplifting soliloquy, before praising Haruhi over and over.

As for Ruzaki, however, he stayed silent, still staring for some moments before he noticed his face burning and his temples sweating, while his brain raced a million miles a second for an adequate response. In the end, he responded by averting his eyes.

"Come on, Ruzaki-senpai, you don't have to act like someone else to talk to the ladies. Just be yourself. It'll be more interesting that way."

The boy looked at Haruhi once more before looking away. "I'll try my best, at least."

"Good." At this, Haruhi changed the subject to something she thought he could manage. So she said, "So you're interested in poetry, right?"

Ruzaki gulped at her question, stealing another glance at the female host. "Yeah."

"What kind of poetry do you like, then?" Kimiko added.

"Uh . . . Well, I guess that depends on my mood."

The three girls waited for him to elaborate on his point but waited in vain. The hapless poet just sat there, dumbfounded as to how to continue without sounding like an idiot.

So Momoka prodded him to go on. She said, "Um . . . Well, what kind of poetry do you usually like to read? Is it love poetry? Political poetry? Religious or secular poetry?"

"Well, I sometimes read religious poetry and love poetry, but that's only when I feel like reading them . . . I've read poems like _The Song of Songs_, for example, from King Solomon, the Biblical leader of the Israelites."

"I've never read that poem before, but I've heard of it."

"How much have you heard?"

"Oh, not as much as you, since you have a special interest in poetry. I only know that King Solomon was the son of King David, who slew Goliath when he was a boy, and that _The Song of Songs_ is a beautiful love poem."

"Well, that's partly true, but there's more to it than that. King David was not a small shepherd boy but a young man of military age when he killed Goliath. And believe it or not, the poem celebrates the sexual union of two lovers over several trysts."

Momoka gaped in shock, while her friend Kimiko bit on her lower lip and blushed at the sheer boldness of his assertion. Even Haruhi, normally levelheaded during conversations with the ladies, lost some of her composer. In fact, she thought to herself, _Why do I get the feeling this won't end well?_

"You can't be serious!" said Kimiko. "_That's_ in the Bible?"

Her outbreak turned several heads towards the two flustered damsels and a host who hadn't the slightest clue how to repair the situation, while a determined Ruzaki kept going.

He said, "I know it sounds weird, but the Bible's more complex than just a history book of religious teachings. It has a lot of texture to it, a lot of meaning that may not be readily apparent with just a cursory glance. It's a book that took many centuries to compile and revise, with many parts added and omitted and other parts emphasized and ignored over the years to suit the prevailing tastes in decency of the times. It's a book that carries with it the influence of many hands and minds who wanted to use its power to change the world."

At this, Momoka, Kimiko and Haruhi exchanged glances. Somehow those words set something fluttering in their chests.

"That's really interesting," Haruhi said, keeping the momentum going. "Say, what other kinds of poetry do you like?"

Ruzaki thought for a few moments, determined not to screw up, and said, "Come to think of it, I tend to read dark poetry, especially after my argument with my father over my major. Since that fight, I feel like I've had to prove to myself that my decision was the right one, though I haven't the slightest clue how to become a respectable poet in my father's eyes. I don't know. Since that time, I've felt like I've lost my way along a dark path, riddled with dangers wherever I go. That's why I find myself reading Dante's _Divine Comedy_ when I have doubts."

Momoka and Kimiko looked at each other, both puzzled and curious as to _why_ anyone would read such a notorious poem, while Haruhi began to get nervous. _Whoa. I hope he won't creep out the ladies_.

"You read Dante's _Inferno?_" both of Haruhi's customers said.

"Yeah, I do. In fact, of the three parts in Dante's epic, that's the part I read most often. In that part of the epic, the anonymous narrator has a guide named Vergil, a great Roman poet, to lead him through the dark forest and the gates of hell and down the descending circles of increasing depravity and torment, till he reaches the last circle where he must somehow escape. In this journey, he meets virtuous wise men, wind-swept adulterers and seducers, putrified gluttons, thieves, liars, heretics, blasphemers, murderers, suicides, frauds, sowers of discord and traitors. When he reaches the last circle, he even glimpses the Devil himself with three heads endlessly chewing on the three greatest traitors of the age—Brutus, Cassius and Judas." Here he took a moment to gauge their reactions and noted the tinge of blue on their faces, all three curious despite being nervous, before taking the next step. "Come to think of it, that nameless narrator and I are much alike—both lost, both full of doubt, both in need of assistance to achieve our goals. The only difference is that he had Vergil's help throughout his journey, while I have yet to have any help of any kind until now. While he had the inspiration and courage to write some of our darkest fears into some of the most beautiful verses, I've yet to find my inspiration or even the courage to start. So if you girls can help me, I'll be forever in your debt."

Silence. All three girls stayed mute for some moments, not knowing what to say. Never had any of them listened to such graphic conversation in the Host Club or outside of it. In fact, Haruhi wasn't sure if he was trying to flirt with them or freak them out, but the more she listened, the more she understood the plight in which he struggled under.

So she placed her hand atop Ruzaki's and said, "Don't worry yourself over it; you're doing a good job as it is. Besides, we'll help you become a great poet. Right, ladies?"

"Right!" both girls said. "You can count on us!"

"We'll help you become a wonderful poet, Ruzaki-sama!" said Kimiko.

"And we'll get the other girls to help you out, too!" said Momoka.

Their combined enthusiasm got him to do something he hadn't done since his fight with his father landed him in Bunkyo, Tokyo. He smiled his first genuine smile, sending color to Momoka and Kimiko's cheeks and even taking their breath away, before they squealed and fangirled over him.

Their squeals attracted more attention from the other customers at the club, especially the ones who were still attending the sleeping trio of Tamaki and the Hitachiin twins over the salon sofas. And true to their word, Momoka and Kimiko set off towards these girls and tried to convince them to help out their worthy poet.

* * *

"Come on, girls," Momoka said, "haven't you looked at those three long enough?"

The nine girls surrounding the sofas on which the sleepers lay looked at the duo before them as though the two had asked them to stop breathing. In their minds, Tamaki may as well have been on his death bed, getting ready at any time to expire beneath their ever-loving and ever-worrying gazes, and the Hitachiin twins may as well have been posing for the cover of _Playgirl_ magazine, both still sleeping in their homoerotically suggestive arrangement. To take their eyes away from these three for even three minutes was unthinkable.

"But Tamaki-sama's still sleeping," said the fat-lipped Tsubaki Kamigamo. "I wanna see him wake up before I do anything else."

And the eight other girls agreed with one "Mmmhmm" of confirmation.

"Kyoya-sama said they'll be recovered by tomorrow," said Kimiko. "Besides, don't you wanna meet the honorary host, Ruzaki-sama?"

Then Kozue Kitamikado said, "Just because he's your type doesn't mean he's my type. I much prefer Hikaru and Kaoru."

And the yaoi fangirls among the group agreed with another "Mmmhmm" of confirmation.

"We're not asking for any of you girls to change hosts," said Momoka. "We're just asking you to help us help Ruzaki-sama become a better poet. He's got the potential to become a great poet, if you just listen to him talk about it. But he took a major risk when he defied his own father to become a poet, and now he needs all the help he can get to realize that dream."

"But he's rebellious," Shiori Igawa said. "I'd never do anything so reckless, and neither would Tamaki-sama."

"Yeah, but do you have any idea how brave you have to be to even talk back at your own father?" added Kimiko.

"Are you saying Tamaki-sama's not brave enough?" said Honoka Kimiwada, taking offense at such slander with ire burning in her eyes.

"No, I'm not saying that. All I'm saying is that Ruzaki-sama may be rebellious, be he's also very brave for standing up to his father. Bravery counts just as much as beauty and finesse in my book. Besides, it's good to help people out. Tamaki-sama would understand that, for sure."

"Well, you're right about that," Shiori said. "I'd never go against my father's wishes, because I'm scared of what he might say. And Tamaki-sama _is_ very understanding and willing to help others. Hmmm . . . What do you think, girls?" She turned to her female colleagues. "You willing to help out?"

Here the girls exchanged looks before coming to a decision.

* * *

Meanwhile, alone at their cafe table, Ruzaki said, "How did I do? I hope I wasn't too shabby."

"You did really good, Senpai. I'm impressed. It was a little unorthodox, I'll admit, but you pulled it together very well."

At this, the would-be poet breathed a sigh of relief. "To be honest with you, I tend to be a bit graphic and dark when I talk about things, as you saw earlier. Don't know why that is, though. I just know that whenever I try to be more uplifting or positive like Kyoya-senpai or even you, I lose my footing, I become self-conscious, and I mince the hell out of my words. I just don't feel comfortable talking about uplifting or happy things, when I honestly don't feel like it on the inside, you know."

"That's all right. When it comes to conversation, honesty's usually the best policy."

"Usually?"

"Well, yeah. You gotta make allowances for flexibility sometimes," Haruhi said, before leaning close and dropping her voice to a whisper. "Besides, I don't wanna tell my customers I'm a girl. It would just be too embarrassing for them if they knew the truth."

"Oh, I see," he said. "Well, what about you? How was your first time talking to the ladies?"

"Honestly, I was as nervous as you. Those two girls over there," she said, indicating Momoka and Kimiko still trying to convince the other girls to help Ruzaki in his poetic endeavors, "are my first two customers when I started out in this club, and at first I was clueless how to answer their question on why I joined the Host Club. I couldn't just tell them the truth, that I was a girl who joined to pay off a debt, so I—"

"Wait, a debt? Why are you in debt?"

Haruhi tensed, thinking, _Damn it! You blew it big time, Haruhi. God, I can't BELIEVE I just let that slip my_—

At this, Ruzaki looked at her, deciphered the flustered expression on her face and said, "Does this debt have anything to do with this club? If it does, then I could—"

"No, please don't. Just drop it."

"But if I could help you pay off—"

"Senpai, just drop it, please! I don't feel comfortable discussing it."

"Oh, okay," he said and just sat there for some moments, clueless as to how to repair the situation. So he said, "I'm sorry, Haruhi. I shouldn't have pressed you if you didn't want me to continue."

"That's okay. Everybody slips up sometime . . ." _Including me, even. I wonder what would have happened if Momoka or Kimiko knew about my debt. Would it reflect badly on the club if the customers knew about it?_ she thought to herself. "Anyway," she continued, "during my first time as a host here, I told my first customers about my life as a way of introducing myself, especially how my mother died and how I had to become independent and hard-working to support my father."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Oh, that's okay. That was ten years ago, so I don't sulk as much as I used to. Besides," she said, steering the subject towards less dangerous waters, "I think it's kind of fun being popular among the ladies."

"You really think so, even when you yourself are one?"

"Why, yes. I guess my sense of gender's lower than what most people would consider normal, but that's all right with me. You gotta admit, though, they are pretty cute, especially when you make them smile," she said, punctuating her statement with a smile that melted women's hearts and stole men's gazes.

Her smile had it's effect on the hapless poet, as well, who stared at her in utter amazement for the second time today. And once again, he found himself speechless before a woman who far surpassed the limitations of her sex in sheer daring and honesty, causing him to sweat at the temples and shake at the knees, before looking away again. "Geez, Haruhi, no wonder you're popular among the girls. Your words are decisive and your smiles are dangerous!"

Before Haruhi replied, Kyoya said, walking up to their table, "I'm starting to wonder what you said, Toyoda, to marshall Haruhi's clients to assist in your endeavors. They're even asking my clients to help you," and he pointed to his own table where Momoka and Kimiko were persuading Yuriko Akishika and Azusa Suwaki to join them (accompanied with the nine girls that left their former stations at the side of Tamaki and the twins).

"Oh, I'm sorry," said Ruzaki. "I didn't mean to infringe on your customers like that."

"On the contrary," Kyoya said, readjusting his immaculately placed glasses, "I haven't seen the girls this exited about a new host since Haruhi joined this club. This might even rake in more money for our activities, if our week-long theme succeeds in attracting new customers. Of course, all this hype would go to waste if you do not fulfill your end of the deal by attending this Saturday's poetry recital. Remember, Toyoda, in the real word, there is no use for cold feet."

At this, Ruzaki gulped. In his mind, the Shadow King may as well have threatened him to not come to this school at all, should he dare to skimp out on the appointed date. "I won't, sir. You have my word that I'll be here ready to go on that day."

"Good. Oh and, Haruhi, may I speak to you for a moment?"

"Uh, sure," she said, getting up and walking with her senpai. "What's up?"

"From what you've seen so far, what do you think of Ruzaki Toyoda as a host?"

"Well, he's rough around the edges and a bit unorthodox when it comes to charming the girls, but when he's at his best, he's pretty good."

"Hm. What do you mean by 'unorthodox'?"

"To be honest, he makes people nervous because of his . . . surprising references when he's talking. Also, he seems to have an inferiority complex, because he overestimates others at the expense of underestimating himself. He seems like the humble type to me."

"I was thinking of that, at first, but humble types don't exactly defy their parents' wishes, do they?"

"You may be right, but not all humble types are the same. What are you thinking, Kyoya-senpai?"

"This is just my first impression of him, so it might change as he comes out of his shell. But I think, in addition to being the poet type, he's also the romantic type."

At this, Haruhi looked at her senpai in surprise. "Romantic? I don't know. When I was with him when he talked about poetry to my guests, he didn't come off as romantic in the slightest."

"That depends on your definition of romantic. You see, there is more than one meaning for 'romantic'. For example, there is the romantic definition derived from the romance literature of medieval and renaissance times of heroic deeds and brave heroes. That in no way describes Ruzaki's type. Then there is the romantic definition derived from its contemporary usage in romance novels and movies of two lovers coming together. This, too, in no way describes him. But between these extremes, there is the romantic definition derived from the Gothic Romanticism movement of the late-18th and early-19th centuries of dark self introspection, gothic landscapes and imagery, and an emphasis on feeling over intellect. Do you think this describes Ruzaki's type?"

She thought about it, connecting the dots one by one. "Yeah. Come to think of it, it fits him perfectly. But why are you talking to me about this?"

"Because you complement him, Haruhi, and he complements you. I'm surprised you didn't notice it yourself with the way he looks at you whenever you flatter the ladies with your words. In fact, he seems to linger on your words far longer than your female admirers. Also, you seem to sympathize with him quite easily for someone you just met a few hours ago, especially when you talked to me about helping him realize his poetic potential earlier, despite the mix-up of this afternoon."

"Okay . . . So what are you trying to say?"

"I'm saying that, since you wanted to help Toyoda in our little talk earlier, the task for helping him realize his poetic potential lies on your shoulders."

"But you threatened to blackmail Tamaki and the twins to help him."

"I lied to those fools for their insolence, in order to uphold school policy as well as the integrity of this club by providing accountability whenever it is needed. But I'd be remiss to rely on their incompetence to help that man in his endeavors."

"But why are you doing this, Senpai? You don't usually go out of your way to help people without knowing first hand whether they'll help you in return."

"You need not concern yourself with that part of the equation. Let me handle that. Just make sure you uphold your end by helping that man. Any failure might reflect badly on the integrity of this club, should he become a no-show or come unprepared and embarrass us."

"So in other words," said Haruhi in more blatant terms, "you're saying that since I talked you into helping him out, the blame lands on me if I can't help him to overcome his stage fright. Is _that_ what you're saying?"

"I'm glad you understand our little arrangement," he said with another of his cloak-and-dagger smiles.

_You've gotta be kidding me? You may as well add to my debt if you feel that way, Senpai, geez! I can't believe this guy!_ she thought, then sighed. _Tamaki may be an idiot, but at least he's not a conniving tyrant!_

Kyoya looked at her, as straight-faced as a poker player. He said, "If you have questions about my leadership, maybe you could voice them after closing hours."

Her reaction was immediate. The hairs raised on the back of her neck, her face turned pale, and she silently cursed herself for underestimating the demonic omnipotence of the Shadow King. She said, "That's not necessary, Senpai. I'll take care of it," and bolted away from the man as fast as she could.

When she seated herself beside Ruzaki again, she looked flustered and shaken.

"Whoa, what's wrong?" Ruzaki said. "Is something the matter?"

Haruhi just looked at him and deadpanned, pointing to the Shadow King, "Try staring the Devil in the face and see who blinks first."

Chills went up the poet's spine. "I see what you mean."

* * *

After acquiring two of Kyoya's regulars under their cause, Momoka and Kimiko continued their quest to provide Ruzaki an audience with the acquisition of the last group of girls yet to be persuaded into the fray. So as captain and lieutenant on the field, the two led the group of now eleven girls to the last three girls attending to the dynamic duo of Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai on another pair of salon sofas.

Since the doors opened for business, Honey-senpai had been charming the girls into giggles and squeals, while the ever-taciturn Mori-senpai replied between spells of absolute silence with "Ah" and "Yeah" to his poetic conceits on sweets, tea and Usa-chan to their blushing guests. In fact, since the doors opened, Honey-senpai's trio of admirers had been the most frequent squealers of today's club activities, an honor usually held by Tamaki's customers or the Hitachiin twins'.

Notwithstanding the delayed opening of the club, Honey was on a roll today. In fact, his poetic genius on the topic of cakes and women proved truly remarkable, when he said in the spirit of the club's current theme,

"Cakes can be red, or violet or blue,  
But once in a while, I prefer only you!"

And the trio of ladies all squealed together in a torrent of revery with Ayumi Munakata, the object of Honey-senpai's latest jest, nearly fainting in an ecstasy of blushes and squeals into the sofa cushions. While Marika Mikamo fanned at her female colleague to revive her, all three love-struck guests got ready for yet another of Honey-senpai's saccharine jests. But he said, "Maybe I should let you girls catch a breath before I go on, because it looks like you need it. Especially you, Ayu-chan; you look like you're about to faint."

"Oh, Honey-sama, if I could only faint in your arms and dream of you and cake," said Ayumi, completely unaware of her own words, "I wouldn't mind stuffing my face!"

That earned the near-senseless woman several sniggers from her two companions, as well as from the group of girls gathered around the sofas. For a moment or two, the woman remained slouched over onto her side in her reveries, blissfully unaware till she noticed more of girls giggling around her.

Right then, she sat bolt upright and said, "Wait, what did I just say? Oh God, I hope I didn't say something embarrassing!" Here she covered her blushing face in her hands.

"That's all right, Ayu-chan," Honey-senpai said, all smiles with his cutesy charms. "You're still beautiful, whether you're eating cake, blushing or making love!"

That last part of his jest was a showstopper in every syllable of the word. At this, all the girls stopped giggling and merely looked at Honey in wide-eyed amazement, their faces turning redder by the second. At this, Haruhi and Ruzaki looked at the little potty mouth from their table, while Kyoya looked up from his laptop at a nearby table and cocked an eyebrow. Hell, even the stoic Mori-senpai stared at his charge with something resembling _shock_ (God, help us) etched onto his face!

In that instant, Ayumi fainted for good atop the sofa cushions, reposing into an emotionally charged sleep whose dreams might have consisted of tea and cakes, jests and blushing, and even 'making love'—God, help her!

In another instant, Mori-senpai said, "You overdid it, Mitsukuni."

In another instant, Honey-senpai looked at his cousin, then at the motionless Ayumi next to him, and then at the girls around him with their red faces and their wide disbelieving eyes, till he realized the error of his words. He said, turning to his cousin with tears welling up into his big moe eyes, "D-did I say something bad, Takashi?"

The big man nodded his head. "You should apologize, Mitsukuni."

So with the gravitas of a repentant sinner, the little man said with tears streaming down his adorably moe face, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, ladies, for being a potty mouth!" And he went on sputtering apology after apology until his speech regressed into the cutest rendition of baby talk.

At this, all the girls (sans Ayumi) exploded into the loudest cheers of "Moe!" ever heard between the walls of the Third Music Room at this point, while some girls (overcome by the sheer unfathomable cuteness of a repentant Honey-senpai) swooned away into unconsciousness.

At this, Momoka and Kimiko felt the full brunt of unfettered cuteness stagger them. In fact, Kimiko felt her knees quiver and buckle under the strain till she gave out and fainted, while Momoka held on by a tenuous effort of will as she placed her hand to her chest, feeling the tumultuous throb beneath the bodice of her dress beating against her palm.

At this, distressed over the misery of his cousin, Mori-senpai came to his rescue and kneeled in front of him to wipe the tears from his eyes. "It's okay, Mitsukuni. You've done enough."

His act of forgiveness was the straw that broke the camel's back. Another squeal resounded throughout the Third Music Room. More girls swooned away, while Momoka (strong-willed as she was) collapsed onto her knees and only managed to keep conscious by the pain in her knees, thinking to herself to never _ever_ underestimate the awesome power of moe!

Moments passed, drifting into eternity.

Slowly the girls recovered their composures, other girls revived and got up, and even Ayumi roused with the help of Marika and another girl.

Slowly Momoka raised herself painfully to her feet, then helped Kimiko to hers, before looking over the scene of girls regaining at least some of their sanity. More moments passed, before she said, "Is everybody all right?"

The girls answered her with individual nods of their heads and vocal confirmations.

More moments passed till all the girls showed enough signs of recovery for Momoka to continue. She then said, "Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai, I have a favor to ask of both of you."

Both cousins looked at each other, before facing one of Haruhi's customer's. Honey-senpai said, "What is it, Momo-chan?"

"Well, after listening to Ruzaki-sama wanting to improve as a poet, Kimiko and I have decided to help him realize his goal by having all the guests give him an audience to help him overcome his doubts. That's why we're here asking your guests to join us and give Ruzaki-sama an audience to support him. He's got a lot of potential. It's for a good cause."

And the eleven other girls agreed with one "Mmmhmm" of confirmation.

Honey-senpai's admirers traded looks and agreed on the spot, with Marika saying, "We'd be happy to help out! Well, if that's okay for you two, Honey-sama, Mori-sama. We'd like to help him out, if we could."

Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai exchanged looks, both unsure what to do, both remembering Kyoya lay down the law when he threatened blackmail against Tamaki and the Hitachiin twins if they didn't get their acts together and help the hapless poet as atonement for their actions. In the end, since the Shadow King willed it, they both appealed with looks of entreaty at their president pro tempore still seated at his table, still looking over his laptop.

Kyoya, in turn, approved with a nod of his head.

With that, Honey-senpai said, "Yeah, sure, we'll help out Ruza-chan!"

Then Mori-senpai assented with a nod of his head.

With that, it was off to the races. The wheels were set in motion. Momoka and Kimiko led the group of now fourteen girls, accompanied with an excited Honey-senpai and an imperceptibly curious Mori-senpai, towards Haruhi and Ruzaki's table.

At this, Ruzaki felt a spike of nervousness run through his body. So he did the only thing he could do at such momentous occasions.

He gulped and prayed to not screw up.

* * *

Meanwhile, Kyoya looked on the scene with a bystander's interest at a carnival spectacle. Since he founded the Host Club with Tamaki, he had never seen a group of customers act with a mutual interest in supporting another host. In all honesty, such selfless collective action was a rarity to Kyoya's self-interested observations. He figured that such a spectacle would prove a valuable learning experience for him, as well as for the other hosts.

So in that same spirit of selflessness (or at least, the closest approximation to it), Kyoya ambled over to the sofas on which the sleepers still slept like logs in a riverbed to wake them up. He touched Hikaru on the shoulder, jolting him awake and choking back a scream from a nightmare about Kaoru.

"K-Kyoya-senpai?" he said. "What's going on?"

"Shhhhhhh," he said, putting a finger to his lips. "Wake up your brother, while I wake up Tamaki."

"But why is—?"

"Shhhhhhh," he said, and then pointed to the scene building around Haruhi and Ruzaki's table, where Momoka and Kimiko took their seats, while the rest of the girls gathered around them.

Hikaru looked at the scene and almost swallowed his tongue. Somehow, Ruzaki and Haruhi had marshaled _all_ the guests, as well as Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai, around their table. "Wait, why are they—?"

That's when he noticed the weight of Kaoru's head on his lap, his brother's warm breath breathing on his inner thigh. That's when Hikaru found himself blushing at the disturbing recollection of his nightmare about his own brother giving him a—

And, just as his brother realized the source of his disturbing dream, that's when Kaoru opened his eyes and leaped off of his brother's lap, choking back a scream of his own and blushing at the same nightmare of giving his own brother a—

"Shhhhhhh," said Kyoya once more, pointing towards the spectacle unfolding before them, "just stay quiet and observe," before he proceeded to shake Tamaki up from his deep slumber, grabbing onto both of his shoulders and roughhousing him back into consciousness. "Tamaki, wake UP!"

At last, when Tamaki woke up, he bolted upright in the sofa and missed headbutting Kyoya by mere millimeters, before getting ready to scream at the nightmarish thought of a demonic Haruhi Fujioka forcing him to redo menial chores.

But just as he was about to let out a scream, Kyoya cupped his hand over Tamaki's mouth, forcing him to choke back his scream in agony, before he finally let go and left the poor blond wheezing.

"Geez, Kyoya, what are you trying to do? Kill me?"

"Shhhhhhh," said Kyoya one more time, placing a finger to his lips and then pointing to the spectacle of Ruzaki getting ready to charm the ladies. "Be quiet, all of you, and observe the scene before you. This is a learning experience for all of you to get a good impression of how Ruzaki charms the ladies, what his strengths and weaknesses are, and how you might reinforce his strengths and improve on his weaknesses."

At this, Tamaki and the twins exchanged looks, all three unsure of what to make of it.

So Tamaki said, "Uh . . . Why exactly do you want us to observe Ruzaki like this?"

"Because I charged all three of you to help him," said an ominous Kyoya, "in order to atone for you actions against him earlier. If you don't help him, you will leave me no choice but to take drastic measures and have you all reported."

That threat brought them back to reality right quick like a jolt of lightning running through them.

With all three at attention, he said, "Now do I make myself clear?"

All color drained out of their faces, and they all nodded their heads in abject humility.

"Good." Then for added measure, just because he felt like messing with their heads, Kyoya gave them one of his cloak-and-dagger smiles and said, "I'll be expecting a lot out of you three. Better not disappoint," before he ambled back to his table, took a seat and typed something into his laptop.

The trio looked at Kyoya as though they were cowering in fear of the Devil, before they turned their gazes to the spectacle before them, all three crouching behind the backrest of the sofa.

* * *

**(To be continued...)**

* * *

A/N: Hey there! Thank you for waiting so patiently for my update! Anyway, I really like how this chapter turned out. I did a crapload of research, going so far as to finding the actual names of each of the host club member's regulars and including them in more active roles. Anyway, here are the names of each of the Host Club member's most frequent regulars:

Haruhi: (1) Kimiko Sakurazuka, (2) Momoka Kurakano, (3) Ruri "Karasuma" Karasumaru  
Tamaki: (1) Shiori Igawa, (2) Tsubaki Kamigamo, (3) Honoka Kimiwada  
Kyoya: (1) Yuriko "Aika" Akishika, (2) Azusa Suwaki  
Twins: (1) Haruna Usami, (2) Kozue Kitamikado  
Honey/Mori: (1) Marika Mikamo, (2) Ayumi "Munekata" Munakata

It was hard at first, but all the slaving away paid off. I'm SOOO excited! Anyway, I hope none of the character are OOC! And I hope you enjoyed my characterizations of all the characters, especially Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai, the Hitachiin twins and Ruzaki, as well!


	3. Second Impressions

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Ouran Highschool Host Club. © Bisco Hatori

* * *

**Chapter 3: Second Impressions**

* * *

Time passed in excruciating seconds.

Faced with a legion of girls surrounding him, Ruzaki felt his nerve slipping away with each tumultuous beat of his heart. Their gorgeous faces, imprinted with expectant expressions and curious eyes, seemed more like objects of unutterable fear in his growing stage fright. In fact, in the theater of his mind, their expressions morphed into those of disgust, and their eyes flashed with indignant stares, while he wracked his brains for a word or an idea on how to start and felt his palms sweat into the lap of his pants.

Without his knowing, the girls around him grew antsy just waiting for him to speak. As such, Ruzaki's nervousness added to their curiosity and inflamed their anticipation. At this, Momoka and Kimiko exchanged nervous looks, then entreated Haruhi with urgent expressions to get the ball rolling again.

So Haruhi said, "Come on, Senpai. You don't have to feel nervous. Just be yourself, okay?"

At this, Ruzaki gulped, then closed his eyes to compose his thoughts, took a deep breath and said, "All right, I'll try."

"Good, that's good." And then she prompted him, saying, "Okay, besides religious poetry and dark poetry, what other kinds of poetry do you like?"

The poet thought for a moment before saying, "To be honest, I never really gave that much thought to what kinds of poetry I liked. I just read the poems that spoke to me, if that makes any sense."

"Well," said Momoka, "what was the first poem that spoke to you, then? Was it any of Shakespeare's sonnets? Or was it Dante's epic? Or—"

"No, no," he said. "It's neither of those, actually. Believe it or not, the first poem that _really_ spoke to me was 'The Raven' by Edgar Allen Poe. Have any of you read it?"

All the girls exchanged looks of discomfort. The fact is, several of them were at least vaguely familiar with Poe's penchant for the macabre, and with 'The Raven' in particular that has percolated its thrills and chills even into these rarified circles of the rich and famous.

Then Yuriko Akishika said, "I remember Kyoya-sama reading it to me and Azusa during last year's Halloween here, but . . . we couldn't handle it. So we asked him to stop."

"How far did he read until you asked him to stop?"

"I'm not sure," said Yuriko, "but I think it was somewhere in the middle."

"We asked him to stop on the 13th verse," said Azusa Suwaki.

"How do you know that?" asked her companion.

"Come on, Aika, don't you remember the day in which Kyoya-senpai read it to us? He read it on the 13th day of October, and we asked him to stop on the 13th verse without realizing it, until he mentioned that to us the next day."

"But I thought he read it to us on Halloween."

"No. I specifically remember it on the 13th day of October."

"Wait a minute," Ruzaki said, seeing a connection that neither girl saw at the moment. "If you think about it, 13 backwards is 31, which just happens to be the day of Halloween."

All the girls gasped at his observation with various terrifying coincidences dancing in their heads. That connection, simple as it was, turned their faces pale, shrank their pupils to bullet points of fright and sent chills running up their spines. For Yuriko and Azusa in particular, these superstitious girls gulped and almost fainted, both kept on their feet with the help of their peers who wouldn't let their colleagues fall to their knees.

Heck, even Honey-senpai, famed for his fearsome reputation as the dreadnought of the Haninozuka clan and the winner of the National Judo Championship and even the rumored secret weapon of the Japanese government, could not help clinging onto his cousin's neck atop his shoulders, nearly strangling him.

But Momoka and Kimiko, both pale and nervous, put up brave faces and said, in unison, "That's very interesting, Ruzaki-sama," and then stopped. Both girls noted the tenuous waver of their voices.

As for Haruhi, looking at the reactions of everyone around her and then at Ruzaki who seemed perplexed by the sudden turn of events, she mentally face-palmed. She thought, _Okay . . . That was a really bad digression. I need to say something before it gets worse_.

* * *

But they weren't the only ones horrified at Ruzaki's remark; Tamaki and the Hitachiin twins proved just as horrified. In fact, crouching behind the backrest of the sofa the whole time, all three men paled at the horror-stricken faces of their regulars and at the flustered expression of their heroic Haruhi in particular, still trying to find the words to repair the situation at the table.

At this, horror turned to outrage with the overprotective Tamaki saying to his cohorts, "Men, this is an emergency of the utmost importance! Any delay might jeopardize this club's survival if we allow Ruzaki's sabotage to continue!"

"What do we do, Boss?" said Hikaru, watching the terror linger upon his guests's faces, before looking on Haruhi still in the throes of finding a way to help out the situation. "It's getting worse by the second!"

"And Haruhi hasn't even talked her way out of it, yet," said Kaoru. "I haven't seen her this tongue-tied in my life!"

"There's only one thing we can do, men," said Captain Tamaki to his foot soldiers. "We'll have to kidnap Haruhi _and_ Ruzaki in a two-team operation. First, we'll run at the top of our speed in one arc around the table, coming closer and closer, and then sweep up Haruhi and Ruzaki at the last moment. Then we'll split into two teams, where I'll rescue Haruhi from her predicament, while you two will take Ruzaki and run him out of the club doors! There are your orders, men!"

No sooner were those orders issued and put into action, all three running at top speed towards the start of their arc, when Kyoya stood up and stopped them with a hand raised up like a traffic cop. And no sooner had Kyoya raised his hand, when the trio skidded to a halt on the heels of their loafers.

"What are you idiots doing?" said Kyoya.

"We're trying to save the integrity of this club," said Tamaki, "from that saboteur over there!" And he pointed to Ruzaki in the center of the action, with the girls still terrified and Haruhi _still_ trying to figure out a way to help.

"If you three do what I think you're going to do, you'll endanger the integrity of this club far more than he ever will."

"B-but that's crazy, Senpai!" Hikaru said. "If this continues, he might scare away all our customers!"

"And if that happens," added Kaoru, "then this club is screwed for sure! I mean, look at Honey-senpai over there! He's so scared, he has Mori-senpai in a death grip!"

And sure enough, the little man had a sleeper hold around his cousin's neck, without realizing it in his frightened state.

Notwithstanding all this, Kyoya remained firm and said, "If the customers are distressed over Ruzaki's methods, then we'll simply apologize to our guests during closing hours. That's all we can do to remedy the situation at present."

"All we can do?" yelled Hikaru. "What do you mean by that?"

"Why are you sticking up for Ruzaki-senpai, all of the sudden?" added Kaoru. "You don't normally stick up for people, unless you have a reason to!"

Kyoya sighed at their questions; it seemed to him that common sense won't work on this trio of morons today.

Adding to the insanity of it all, Tamaki began to have . . . spousal suspicions. Looking at the dispositions of Kyoya, Haruhi and Ruzaki, he felt something pretty dog-on suspicious going on amongst the three, and that's when his delusions took over. In fact, in the theater of his mind, he could have sworn he saw Ruzaki, Haruhi and Kyoya trading knowing glances amongst themselves at the start of Ruzaki's interview earlier this afternoon, signifying something truly _earth-shattering_ in his familial delusions.

Without missing a beat, Kyoya picked up on this and said, "Tamaki, are you afraid that Ruzaki might replace you as 'Daddy' in Haruhi's eyes?"

His reaction was immediate. Misinterpreting Kyoya's look of confusion as admission of guilt, the blonde turned as white as paper at the sheer treachery of it all, though he refused to believe it—denied that such treason on Kyoya's part was even possible! In the throes of a delusional marital crisis, Tamaki said, "You unfaithful wench! How could you _do_ this to me! Have I not created the very walls of this sanctuary with these hands? Have you not avowed yourself to the family that we have created with the fruit of our loins?"

Notwithstanding Tamaki's past eccentricities, his Shakespearean conceits staggered Kyoya for some moments, before he regained his composure, looked at the former king and face-palmed. "Tamaki, you're an even bigger idiot that I thought."

At this, the former king raced back to the farthest corner of the room to sulk out his miseries over Kyoya's betrayal of Tamaki's trust and honor to have and to hold in sickness and in health—so help us, God!

As for the twins, neither Hikaru nor Kaoru knew what just happened. They just stood there, shocked, and . . . well . . . freaked out.

Then Hikaru said, "Hey, Senpai, what just happened?"

"I don't want to know."

"That makes the two of us," said Kaoru.

"I'll third that," added Hikaru. "Seriously, I think the Boss needs some help."

Kyoya sighed and then walked over to Tamaki's corner of woe, where the man crouched and sulked himself into deepening depression. Kyoya said, "Tamaki, we need to talk."

The man barely even shifted his head to acknowledge Kyoya's presence. "What is there to talk about, when you just tore out my heart? How could you _do_ that to me?"

"Tamaki, it's not what you—"

"I don't wanna hear it! How could I even live with myself after what you did?"

"It's not about me, or you, or even Haruhi," Kyoya said, dead-serious with a straight face. "It's about Ruzaki himself."

Finally, the man turned his head. "What do you mean?"

Here Kyoya leaned in and whispered something in his ear, something he omitted in his interview earlier by Haruhi's request, something that made Tamaki draw breath. "When Haruhi found out about it in my research, she felt sorry for him and took it upon herself to convince me to allow Ruzaki to do this," said Kyoya. "Now do you understand?"

"Yeah, I do," he said, getting up and assuming his noble prince persona, before he looked over at Haruhi and smiled. "I guess she wouldn't be a true daughter of mine, if she didn't understand the meaning of empathy."

* * *

Just as Tamaki and Kyoya rejoined the twins at the table, just before Mori-senpai was about to black out, just as Honey-senpai realized what he was doing, and just as Haruhi was about to speak, Ruzaki beat all of them to the punch and said, "I know that 'The Raven' has attained a life of its own apart from its creator, and I will readily admit that it has enough supernatural and gothic elements to make a scary story out of it, but there's more to it than that. There's an element I found in the poem of far more power and horror than any supernatural allusion can invoke. You see, I read that poem during one of the most painful episodes of my life, when I was just seven years old."

Instantly, all the girls forgot about their fears, Honey-senpai stopped choking Mori-senpai before the big man lost his footing, and Haruhi looked at the poet, thinking, _Is he gonna talk about his—?_

"What happened?" said a concerned Kimiko.

"It started six months before I read the poem, around late June or early July. My mother was diagnosed with terminal bone cancer a few weeks after my seventh birthday."

At this, all the girls gasped, several eyes widened and some mouths fell open in shock at such misfortune befalling one of their own. Momoka and Kimiko held onto the seat of their dresses, while Haruhi bit down on her lower lip, anticipating the moment when—

"When my brother and I found our father crying, we pressed him to tell what was going on until he gave in and told us. He told us that the doctors said it was inoperable and gave her a month to live at the most." Here, the poet sighed amidst the worried looks of everyone around him, then continued, "But she fought on for five months, five months of life, five months of courage I've never seen in anyone I've ever known before or since. She didn't let it bother her. She just went on living life to the fullest; she kept being chipper and strong for my brother and me, as well as for my father. Her courage inspired me to become a poet, and I told her this, and she believed in me. She said that if I put my heart and soul to it, I could be anything I wanted to be, even a poet. And so she bought all of these poetry books for me, from Shakespeare's _Sonnets_ and Dante's _Divine Comedy_ to several volumes of gothic and romantic poetry. I read through them, and I wrote (or at least, I tried to write) poetry to please my mother in her bed when she read. She would always say that my poetry was amazing, that I would become a great poet some day. I believed her then, and to some extent, I still believe in her now."

"How did she die?" said Momoka, looking at the poet with tears welling up into her eyes.

"She died in her sleep on the first morning of December, and my father, brother and I (along with friends and family) attended her funeral a week later. I cried, just as any boy would at the burial of his mother, and I couldn't read any of the books she bought me for a few days after that. When I finally got enough courage to open one and read, I picked one I hadn't read yet called the _Complete Stories and Poems of Edgar Allan Poe_ and read through the poems within it. I read through the first nineteen poems that night, till I noticed the time and thought of going to sleep; I think it was around 2:00 or 3:00 in the morning. Anyway, I decided to read one more poem before I went to sleep, which was 'The Raven'."

"Then what happened?" added Haruhi, feeling the beatings of her heart grow with anticipation.

"I don't know. Even now, I find it hard to describe the feelings I felt as I ran my eyes along each line, whispering the cadences between the shadows of my room and my soul. Between the beatings of my heart and the quickening of my breath, I thought I heard the footfalls of someone in the room with me. Sometimes I thought I smelled the faint traces of perfume that my mother used to wear, or even felt for a moment or two her ghost rustling through the curtains, until all was silent and only the shadow of her memory lingered by the time I finished the last two lines of Poe's poem:

"'And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor  
Shall be lifted—nevermore!'"

Nevermore. The last two lines of the infamous poem, the lines that produced the most screams in most readers, sounded less terrifying and more somber and intimate, and thus had a far more powerful effect on his listeners. Their hearts constricted, and their eyes glistened with a film of tears that have yet to fall, and in that moment, all the guests and hosts were of one mind and understood where Ruzaki was getting at.

"Of all the poems I've read up to that point, Poe's 'The Raven' touched me in a way that almost no other poem has ever touched me since. I read that poem after my mother's death in the same month and time of night as the narrator of the poem; I shared the same moods, felt the same pain, and in some ways, even mourned the same woman. Reading it touched me with an edge of reality far exceeding anything the supernatural can invoke on its own, because it's inevitable; it's something all of us have to face at some point in our lives. I know it's hard to think about; in many ways, it seems impossible that something like that can happen, but it does, and it will. Someday. That's why I wanna become a poet so bad; because poetry is the last connection I have with my mother. While others have mementos like photos or old camera footage to remember lost loved ones, my mementos are the poems I write for my mother."

"Senpai," Haruhi said, "you can't live in the past forever, you know."

"I already know that: I know what I wanna do; I know what I wanna be. I just don't know what I'm looking for to get to where I wanna be right now."

"I'll tell you then," she said, attracting everyone's attention, including Ruzaki who stared at her in amazement. "You need to find another reason to write."

At this, all the girls inhaled at the bluntness of Haruhi's suggestion.

"But I wanna make my mother proud."

"Then do it by showing that you can stand on your own and not use your mother's memory as a crutch in your writing. That's what I noticed in your poems when I read them earlier; there's not enough variety in your poetry. How are you going to grow as a poet, if you keep relying on the same subject?"

"Wait, how do you know this? If you only read one of my poems, how do you know I focus my efforts in one subject?"

"Because I read some of the less soggy clumps of paper earlier, while Kyoya was doing a background check on you before the meeting."

Her words sent an arrow straight through his heart, at which he buried his head in his arms and sulked at the sheer display of Haruhi's treachery to read more of his poems without him knowing, mumbling something inaudible to her ears.

"Wait, what? What did you say? I can't hear you."

So he raised his head and looked at the female host with tear-filled puppy dog eyes, "How could you _do_ that to me? I trusted you! Now EVERYBODY'S gonna think I'm a terrible poet!"

Haruhi mentally face-palmed, thinking, _Oh geez, what a crybaby! Then again, maybe I was bit too harsh on him_. Here she sighed, then placed a hand on Ruzaki's to the thrill of the guests and to the shock of Tamaki and the twins and said, "Look, I'm not trying to be mean, okay?"

Her touch roused the poet out of his miseries.

"But you need another source of inspiration for your poetry," she continued. "You need to expand on your poetic potential by trying other subjects and moods."

"But I don't feel like writing on other subjects. It just doesn't feel . . . genuine to me."

"That's because you haven't found that reason yet. Senpai, I know it's hard to think of anything else after going through something like that. Trust me, I've been there. I know exactly what you're going through. When my mother died, I felt the same way for a while, till I realized that I still had my father, so I became strong and independent for him, as well as for myself."

"But your father's not like my father. My father doesn't want me to be a poet; he wants me to join his company in the shadow of my older brother. I've been trying my hardest to make him believe that I can make it on my own as a poet, but he just won't give me a chance to prove myself."

"The only person you need to convince is yourself. Not your father. Not your brother. Just you. If you start thinking you're a poet, you'll start believing you're a poet; and if you believe you're a poet, then pretty soon, you'll _be_ a poet. A great poet, even. But it all starts with you. We'll try everything we can to help you, but you're the one that needs to step out of your shell."

For the second time today, the hapless poet found himself looking at the female host in awe, making Momoka and Kimiko blush and garnering a few nervous whispers between the ladies around the table. Every guest saw the awestruck adoring stare of the poet and silently wished she was the object of his wonderment.

* * *

But the girls were not the only ones who saw that longing stare. Every male host of the club saw it with varying reactions, from Mori-senpai's imperceptible look of indifference and Honey-senpai's look of wonder to Kyoya's look of analytical curiosity, the Hitachiin twins' looks of jealousy, and Tamaki's look of fatherly outrage.

Luckily for the poet, Kyoya picked up on Tamaki and the Hitatchiins' hostile thoughts, saying, "You three need not worry for Haruhi's sake. She's handling the situation quite well."

"Yeah, but don't you see that look he's giving her?" said Tamaki, pointing to the poetaster still staring at Haruhi. "I'm telling you, Kyoya. If that bastard doesn't take his lecherous eyes off of her this instant, I'm gonna—"

"Now, now, Tamaki, don't jump to conclusions. His stares might be suggestive, but nothing that would merit a club meeting."

"But Senpai," added Hikaru, "the way he's looking at her is _way_ beyond that! It's sexual harassment!"

"_You_ really think so?" Here the man just looked at the ginger-headed hypocrite, readjusted his glasses and said, "Honestly, you surprise me, Hikaru, given that you do that same thing with Kaoru every day for the enjoyment of your guests."

At this, both Hitachiin brothers blushed and gaped at the Shadow King in shock, as if he suggested that their brotherly love act was actually real.

"We're not gay, Senpai," said Kaoru.

"Kaoru and I were just acting," added Hikaru, before pointing towards Ruzaki _still_ staring at Haruhi, "but _that_ isn't acting. I mean, just look at him stare at her—it's disgusting! The way he's leering at her would be like me putting my hand up her shirt."

At this, all three men looked at Hikaru in silence. Kaoru gave him an uncomfortable stare of betrayal, Kyoya cocked an eyebrow at him, and Tamaki just gaped at him in shock.

When he noticed the pause, Hikaru looked at his three colleagues and said, "What? I was just making a point."

But Tamaki thought differently in his daughter-complex, with all kinds of unwholesome thoughts about Hikaru doing naughty things to his innocent Haruhi. He said, "Did you just make a pass at Haruhi?"

"What? No," he said, noticing Tamaki's fatherly glare, "I was just making a point, that's all."

"You were making a point, when all of the sudden, the thought of groping my daughter—groping _your_ sister—ran through that sick brain of yours! Have you no shame for such thoughts?"

"What are you talking about? I was just making a point, Boss! And besides, didn't all this start from Ruzaki-senpai leering at Haruhi?"

"Leering's one thing, but groping her?" The blonde man then stalked towards Hikaru with clenched fists, getting ready to defend Haruhi's innocence from his corrupting influences once and for all. "Even the thought of such an act is abhorrent to all honorable men!"

"Whoa, wait, Boss, wait a minute," said Hikaru, backing away on shaky knees. "It's not like that, I swear!" All the while, he kept turning towards his brother for help. "Right, Kaoru? Come on, help me out!"

"Boss," said Kaoru, taking a few tenuous steps towards the stalking man, "even if he would think that, I don't think my brother would actually do that. So would you please calm down? You're blowing this _way_ out of proportion."

Right then, Tamaki swung around and glared at Kaoru. "So you think this is blowing it out of proportion? I'll _show_ you what blowing it out of proportion really is, you little—"

"Run for it, Kaoru!" said Hikaru, running off while the blonde got distracted. And no sooner had his brother screamed it, when Kaoru ran the opposite direction, making Tamaki double back to catch both brothers.

"Damn it! Hikaru, Kaoru," said Tamaki, running after Hikaru and then after Kaoru, then back at Hikaru, over and over, "when I get my hands on you two, I'll wring both your necks for saying nasty things about Haruhi!"

"But, Boss, I didn't say anything about Haruhi," said Kaoru. "Hikaru's the one who said it, not me!"

"Kaoru, can't you see we're both running for our lives here?"

And on the high jinks went, all three enacting a heated version of tag throughout the music room. Looking on these morons with their antics, Kyoya pressed two fingers over his eyes to relieve the pressure of an on-coming headache. To make matters worse, he noted the confused looks of the guests bearing witness to their shenanigans. His first thought was simple enough, though he resisted the urge to head back to his laptop, open the school web browser and send that incriminating e-mail to the chairman. As much as he wanted to do that—and by God, he _really_ wanted to—, he thought of a better way to resolve this.

So without missing a beat, he ambled towards Mori-senpai and Honey-senpai, both watching the idiots at play all well. He said, lowering his voice so that none of the guests would hear, "Mori-senpai, Honey-senpai, please retrieve Tamaki and the twins. They're becoming an embarrassment to this club."

"Yes, sir," said Honey, while Mori just nodded his head.

Without further adieu, Honey and Mori, two legendary titans of the art of 'search and subdue', observed Tamaki and the twins and split up. Honey took up the left side of the club room, and Mori took up the right side. Both stood sentry observing the three delinquents, both sizing up their quarry like hunters on the African veldt, both waiting for the perfect opportunity to ambush.

The few guests still conversing over Ruzaki's unsettling attentions on Haruhi stopped talking, as every guest wondered what the heck was going on. One moment, Tamaki and the twins were bedridden, the next moment, they were running around like madmen. At this, some of the guests began to worry.

"Don't worry, ladies," Kyoya said, adopting his hosting persona. "Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai will take care of this."

One of Tamaki's guests said, "What's happening to them? I thought you said they were too tired to run around."

"And indeed, they are, madam, though they don't know it yet. That's why they were so tired when they came over today: they never realized how tired they were, all three falling asleep when they took a respite on the sofas. And now it looks like they're at it again," he said, adding in a mock-worrisome voice, "only this time, they're doing it in their sleep. I wonder why."

Audible gasps came from Tamaki's and the Hitachiins' fangirls, all of them once again wondering over their bodily and mental conditions.

"By the way," Kyoya said, steering their minds from worrisome thoughts, "have any of you ladies heard of the martial prowess of Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai?"

"Of course we have," said Marika Mikamo. "Honey-senpai's the Judo Champion, and Mori-senpai's the Kendo Champion."

"Indeed," said Kyoya. "So you ladies will all see a glimpse of what makes these men champions. Just watch, and you'll see."

And so they watched, anticipating God-knows-what from these two champions upon the frenetic trio still running like chickens with their heads cut off. They didn't wait long.

Without warning, both Honey and Mori dashed off their starting positions, two blurry streaks heading for the unsuspecting trio of idiots like two birds of prey diving for three unwitting pigeons, capturing them upon their shoulders. And audible gasp filled the room from where the clients were standing, their eyes wide and filled with awe at their speed. With Honey shoulder-carrying Tamaki and Mori having both Hitachiins upon each shoulder, they both arced back across the expansive clubroom and slowed to a halt at Kyoya's position with Tamaki and the twins passed out from the g-forces involved.

Amidst clapping, whistling, squealing and all manner of fangirling, Kyoya pointed to the solon sofas where Tamaki and the twins had slept during the opening of the Host Club. "Keep an eye on them while they sleep there, and wake them up when hosting activities are over. I'll handle the rest." Then he turned to the ladies and said, adopting once again his hosting persona, "They need their sleep, so please refrain from getting near them. They're more tired than I realized; but like I said before, they'll be their wonderful selves by tomorrow," adding under his breath, "even if I have to threaten them."

* * *

After setting Tamaki and the twins on their respective sofas, Honey and Mori looked over at the table that now seated their Shadow King with Haruhi and Ruzaki and all the girls surrounding them. The two cousins then looked at each other before turning back to the table in contemplation on Haruhi and Ruzaki and Kyoya. Both had similar ideas on what might result from such unusual circumstances.

"Takashi," Honey said, grabbing onto Mori's jacket.

The big man looked down at his charge. "Yes?"

"Would you prefer Kyo-chan as the Host Club king over Tama-chan?"

The big man shook his head, as unreadable as ever to everyone except Honey.

"I thought so." Then Honey looked over at Tamaki and the twins now reposing on their respective sofas, thinking of other more immediate thoughts. "But these three need to get their acts together, especially Tama-chan. Something tells me that Kyo-chan won't give him back his position if he doesn't think Tama-chan's ready for it. Do you think Kyo-chan might call a meeting for that?"

The big man remained silent for a time, gazing out at Kyoya talking with a nervous Ruzaki and a confused Haruhi at the table, all the while charming the ladies with his own considerable literary prowess. Mori said, "Maybe . . ." and let his words drift off into space.

It took less than a split second's glance from the Shadow King, a glance that escaped the attentions of everyone around the table, to stop Mori from voicing his opinion with another demonic flash of his glasses. That flash, invisible from where everyone else was seated, chilled Mori to the quick and compelled him to nod his head in silent acknowledgement.

At first, Honey was mystified; but from what little he could decipher from Mori's stoic expression, he got the gist of his trepidation. The Shadow King's omnipotence must be observed. So he changed the subject to less dangerous waters and said, "Takeshi."

The big man looked down. "Yes?"

"Have you noticed that Tama-chan, Hika-chan and Kao-chan act like cats and dogs?"

The big man nodded.

"And that they're all fussing over a tanuki?"

The big man looked at his charge . . . and smiled. Leave it to Honey to make a metaphorical comparison between a tanuki and Haruhi and have it make sense. No wonder Honey was on a roll today charming the ladies; his poetic conceits were quite sharp.

"I thought so." Honey paused, thinking of another connection in his mind. He said, "Takashi."

The big man looked down. "Yes?"

"What animal does Ruza-chan remind you of?"

The big man gazed over at a nervous Ruzaki sitting across from Kyoya, viewing their exchange along with a nervous Haruhi and an equally nervous crowd of girls. He saw their wide-eyed expressions of suspense, all of them absorbed in the outcome of their conversation, all of them following their exchanges with the absorption of an academic debate. He zeroed in on Haruhi in particular in relation to Ruzaki next to her and saw the connection.

Mori said, "A tanuki."

"I thought so, too. No wonder Haru-chan went out of her way to do this for Ruza-chan." Honey paused, thinking out the possible consequences of such a connection. "Takashi."

The big man looked down. "Yes?"

"Do you think Kyo-chan would—?"

Here, Mori put a finger to his charge's lips and smiled. "Let Kyoya decide, Mitsukuni." He then looked over at the table and caught a glimpse of Kyoya's momentary stare in his direction and yet another flash of his glasses as if Kyoya had read his mind. Like his Satanic counterpart, Kyoya kept one step ahead of everyone else; but Mori took pleasure in the knowledge that he could glimpse into the mind of such a man without getting burned. Mori added, so that Honey understood his meaning, "Don't play with fire."

Honey then turned towards the table and focused on Kyoya with big wondering eyes, adding under his breath, "I thought so."

* * *

**(To be continued...)**

* * *

A/N: Hey there! I know it's been a while since I last updated this story; life's been crazy on my end. I hope there are at least a few people out there still reading this fanfic. Anyway, hope you find this chapter enjoyable, because I really like how this chapter turned out. It took a lot longer to write than I thought, because I wasn't sure where to take it in the middle. All right, enough excuses. Here are the names of each of the Host Club member's most frequent regulars:

Haruhi: (1) Kimiko Sakurazuka, (2) Momoka Kurakano, (3) Ruri "Karasuma" Karasumaru  
Tamaki: (1) Shiori Igawa, (2) Tsubaki Kamigamo, (3) Honoka Kimiwada  
Kyoya: (1) Yuriko "Aika" Akishika, (2) Azusa Suwaki  
Twins: (1) Haruna Usami, (2) Kozue Kitamikado  
Honey/Mori: (1) Marika Mikamo, (2) Ayumi "Munekata" Munakata

I'm SOOOOOO excited right now! I wanna know what people think of it, but I hope haven't lagged on their characterizations since I last updated. I was writing the last section of this chapter purely on gut instinct from what I still remember of my research on Honey and Mori. Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Third Impressions

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Ouran Highschool Host Club. © Bisco Hatori

* * *

**Chapter 4: Third Impressions**

* * *

With Kyoya seated at the table, Momoka and Kimiko sat nervously next to Kyoya, feeling his presence intimidate them into silent observers of the spectacle.

And a spectacle, it was. The debate between Kyoya and Ruzaki went back and forth with Kyoya gaining on the latter's arguments by decisive words and penetrating insights. Haruhi and the rest of the girls viewed their exchanges with the awe of viewing a fencing match; but the debate was lopsided between Ruzaki and Kyoya, a debate between a journeyman and a master, an untested talent and a battle-hardened genius.

Looking on, neither Haruhi nor the other girls understood half the things the two talked about, but the results were clear to anyone with eyes and ears. And yet, Haruhi sensed a subtlety in Kyoya's words that nagged at her to pay attention to his words.

_What are you trying to say, Kyoya-senpai?_ she thought.

Kyoya continued, leaning forward in his seat like a general staring down a private from across his desk and saying, "Alexander Pope and John Dryden are overrated poets, I agree, but not so with Lord Byron. If anything, Byron's one of the chief _underrated_ poets, both in his age and in ours. Now this is a matter of personal taste, but Dryden and Pope's poetry are too precise and mechanical in form, too didactic and preachy in their tone, too restrictive in their meaning and altogether too decadent for my taste. And on Pope especially, you can rightly level a charge of defamation in his acidic attacks on his contemporaries, for which he deserved ridicule even after his death."

"But you don't think Byron shares those tendencies?" Ruzaki said, sweating from his temples down to his nape above his collar at the unrelenting stare. "His _Don Juan_ scandalized every self-respecting nobleman and woman from Spain to Russia, and I'm pretty sure his contemporaries weren't too pleased with him marring their reputations in print."

"Well, yes, of course, but not to the extent of Pope or Dryden. Especially Pope. What both poets overdid to insipidity (and flat out abused in Pope's case), Byron used to genius effect and to genuine purpose. Byron could read people like a book. I know it's a trite expression, but it's true. His observational accuracies show in all his works, including _Don Juan_."

Kyoya's apparent admiration for such an infamous poet left Ruzaki silent for a spell, thinking of Kyoya's words. For an ambitious man like Kyoya to esteem anyone so highly, it could not have been for literary merit alone.

Ruzaki said, "You keep referring to Byron in our exchanges."

"And not without reason, Toyoda. Unlike most poets that lived relatively mundane lives, Lord Byron proved as famous for his personal life as well as his literary life, traveling the world, having several affairs with women, going into politics, even becoming a war hero."

Again, Ruzaki paused for a spell, wondering about Kyoya's fixation on this notorious poet. "You seem to identify with Byron."

"To be frank, I admire him less as a poet and more as a man of ambition and courage."

"And also a man of many faults."

"Of course, all great men have their faults. It comes with the territory, and Lord Byron was no different. And yet he never let his own faults prevent him from striving toward his goals."

"Even if he was running away from his faults instead of confronting them?" Ruzaki said, then stopped, catching the drift of his own words and the nakedness of his own faults.

Ruzaki's question put a cloak-and-dagger smile on Kyoya's face, as if the hapless poet incriminated himself under an interrogation. "That is for you to decide, Toyoda."

At this, all the girls felt shivers running down their spines, looking from the cool and calculating Kyoya to the poet seemingly wrapped around his finger.

But Haruhi took it as a sign that Ruzaki had unknowingly tapped something that he needed to know. She had struggled to grasp the meaning behind Kyoya's words throughout the exchange but finally got the gist of it. _'. . . all great men have their faults. It comes with the territory . . . And yet he never let his own faults prevent him from striving toward his goals,'_ she thought, rolling the words through her head. _'That is for you to decide.' That last part is a double entendre for Byron AND Ruzaki. I think I understand now_.

She then turned to Ruzaki still trying to figure out a way to respond. _Come on, Senpai. Don't you see he's trying to help you?_ So she took the initiative and said, "Try not to overthink it, Senpai."

"I'm starting to wish I hadn't said anything at all," Ruzaki said, sweating profusely now at Kyoya's unrelenting stare, at Haruhi's expectant look of encouragement, at Momoka and Kimiko's looks of pity, and at the nervous looks of the other girls surrounding the table. Claustrophobia settled in, as Ruzaki found himself trapped between the insurmountable rock that was Kyoya and the hard place formed by the legion of girls surrounding the table.

At this, Momoka said, "Kyoya-sama, don't you think you're being a bit . . ."

". . . harsh on him?" said Kimiko.

"It's all right, mademoiselles," Kyoya said, his smile softening on their compassion for the man. "If I seemed harsh on him, it was not my purpose to do so; it was only to let him see his faults for what they truly are."

"What do you mean by that?" Ruzaki said.

"Your faults make you who you are, Toyoda. Take advantage of what you have, including your faults. A true poet, like a true host, not only uses what he knows but expresses who he is—both the good and the bad."

"In other words, Ruzaki-senpai," added Haruhi, "use your greatest weakness as your greatest strength."

All was silent, every girl dwelling on their words of encouragement to a struggling host and felt something warm and fuzzy budding in their chests.

"Be myself. That's what you mean." Here, the poet leaned back on his chair, breathing out a sigh of relief. "Kyoya, with the way you were looking at me that time, I honestly thought you'd have my guts splayed to the floor if I answered wrong."

"The right answer won't always get you off the hook," Kyoya said. "In our world, there is no right or wrong answer, only how well we say it. In the real world, confidence is everything. Every great figure in history had it to varying degrees and made a mark on those around them because of it."

"Even the poets?"

"Especially the poets."

"Even poets like . . . Alexander Pope?"

"Everyone to his own taste, Toyoda. For instance, take Lord Byron and John Keats. Of all the poets that fit you, they above all others come closest to your disposition as a poet and as a man. As a man, you share many of Byron's characteristic charms, including great talent and passion, a thin veneer of conformity hiding a rebellious spirit, a distaste for fatherly authority and a heavy weight of guilt in your heart. As for John Keats, you share his ideals and much of his style."

Goosebumps raised on Ruzaki's forearms, the hairs on the back of his head standing on end. He raised his head and just stared at the Shadow King in shock, thinking, _How the hell does he know that? We haven't even talked about John Keats!_ "Kyoya, you seem to know more about poetry than you let on."

"Well, English _is_ one of my favorite subjects, though poetry is not part of the official curriculum. I'm a man of many interests, and literature is one of the few indulgences I allow myself every now and then to break the monotony of my usual interests. Yet poetry is not my specialty; you doubtless have a much wider range of poetry beneath your ken than I do."

"It didn't sound like it, when you were talking," Ruzaki said. "If anything, you had me on my toes the whole time, and you consistently argued your points as if you knew all about it."

At this, Kyoya smiled again at his compliment. "That's the difference between you and me. I know almost nothing of Dryden or Pope past a perusal of some of their works I find on the internet. My chief interest in Lord Byron lies more in the accounts written about his life and less on his poetry, while Keats' collected letters provide a wellspring of knowledge into the workings of a brilliant and sensitive character. As such, I only know a few of their poems, none of them by heart. And the same goes for Shelley, Wordsworth and Coleridge, whose lives I find rather dull to read. But the little poetry I do know, I can use to charm the ladies to great effect, while you have a hard time expressing yourself with your vast knowledge of it. So it's not about how much you know; it's about how well you use what you know."

"And you do that by being yourself."

"Yes, yes, you're starting to get it."

"And practice."

"Yes. Practice makes perfect."

Here, Ruzaki chuckled and said, "You make it sound so easy, when I know it's anything but."

"Nothing worth doing was ever easy. You yourself know this more than most," Kyoya said, "when you defied your father's wishes and changed your major to become a poet. Few individuals from this school or any other school would dare contemplate doing that, let alone go through with it as you have. Even I can't see myself doing that. That alone, should you succeed, will win you the respect of your peers."

He then peered at the solon sofas where Tamaki and the twins slept, got up from the table and said, "Now if you will excuse me, Toyada, mademoiselles, I need to check up on those three," before ambling to where Honey and Mori stood sentry overlooking the trio. He then turned and said, "Haruhi, will you join me for the time being? I need someone else's opinion for something."

"For what, Senpai?" Haruhi said, getting up and stalking after him.

Ruzaki was about to say something, but it was too late. His greatest pillar of support had abandoned him in his moment of greatest need. Now alone and surrounded by a legion of girls, his heart rate began to pick up, and he looked towards his two remaining pillars (Momoka and Kimiko) for help. He said, "W-what's going on here? Why are they—?"

"I don't know, Ruzaki-sama," Momoka said, looking over, "but it must be important since it concerns Tamaki and the twins."

Kimiko added, "After what Kyoya-sama said earlier, I hope they're okay."

Swayed by these words, the rest of the girls once again started murmuring amongst themselves over the bodily conditions of Tamaki and the Hitachiins, with Haruna Usami suggesting they take a look at what's going on.

"No way, Haruna," said Yuriko, one of Kyoya's guests.

"Why not? I wanna see if the twins are okay."

"Because Kyoya said not to disturb them."

"But—"

"Yuriko's right, Haruna," Shiori Igawa said, going over and placing her hand on the girl's shoulder to comfort her. "We're all worried about them, but let's not have that cloud our minds, okay?"

"But . . . but I'm just really worried about—"

"It's okay, Haruna," said Kozue Kitamikado. "They'll be all right by tomorrow. So try not to be such a worrywart . . ."

And on the murmurs went amongst the girls, dissipating whatever sway Ruzaki's hard-won efforts gained for himself. With the murmurs building and their attentions on Ruzaki waning, Momoka and Kimiko saw it all unravelling before their eyes and entreated Ruzaki to say something to stop them from worrying.

Yet all he could do for the moment was watch in despair at his efforts going up in flames, thinking on Kyoya's words, _'Nothing worth doing was ever easy. You yourself know this more than most . . .'_ At least he knew the meaning behind those words. Now he only had to implement it.

So he said, getting up to comfort Haruna and the rest of the girls, "Look, ladies, I can't ask you not to worry about them . . . but if I go and ask about them myself, then relay it back to all of you, will that be okay?"

"Oh, you're a Godsend, Ruzaki-sama!" said Haruna, looking at him with new-found awe. "Yes, that'll be perfect."

"Thanks so much, Ruzaki-sama!" added Shiori, stars forming in her eyes. "We'll definitely appreciate it. Won't we, ladies?"

And the other girls agreed with one "Mmmhmm" of confirmation, grateful smiles on their faces and sparkles of relief in their eyes.

With that, Ruzaki glanced at Momoka and Kimiko seated at the table for approval, both of whom gave brilliant smiles and a pair of two thumbs up. Encouraged with these prospects, he then set off towards the solon sofas.

* * *

". . . nearly disgraced this club with your actions. If it wasn't for the amount of money you three bring into this club's earnings, I'd have all of you knocked down to errand boys for the rest of this week," Kyoya said, lording over the three sinners like an angry judge. "As things are now, when Tamaki wakes up, I'll have you three under probation for the rest of this week, so you better be on you best behavior."

"Yeah, but, geez, Senpai! Resorting to blackmail to get things your way?" Hikaru said, getting genuinely miffed at his threats. "That's low, even for you."

"And you don't have to resort to Honey-senpai and Mori-senpai sweeping us up like that," added Kaoru, massaging the back of his neck. "My neck is still sore. And the Boss is still out, if you haven't already noticed."

And sure enough, Tamaki still lay on the other sofa, where Haruhi spent the whole time trying to shake him back to consciousness with no results. After another bout of shaking Tamaki by the shoulders—"Come on, Tamaki, wake up!"—, she just looked at Kyoya and said, "He's still out of it, Senpai."

Before Kyoya spoke, Ruzaki cut in, just arriving from the table, "What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"Of course, everything's not 'all right'," Hikaru said, directing his anger at the poet. "Ever since _you_ stepped into the picture, you've been terrorizing our guests, and now the rest of our week is shot, and you're asking me if—"

Mori's touch on his shoulder quieted Hikaru, making him look up at the tall man. When he shook his head, Hikaru finally let go of his anger and sighed.

Meanwhile, Honey stood by Tamaki's side, bending over the sleeping man as if he was inspecting the acupuncture points of a medical mannequin.

"You think you can wake him up, Honey-senpai?" Haruhi asked.

"Yeah. It's easy once you know which points to press," he said, taking Tamaki's left hand in his, feeling for the tender spot between his thumb and index finger and squeezing repeatedly in quick succession.

At this, Tamaki awoke sucking in breath, seemingly electrocuted into life like Frankenstein's monster. Looking around, he sat up and stared at Honey's big worry-filled eyes. So he put a hand on his senpai's head and said, "Don't worry, Honey-senpai, I'm all right. But slow down next time. You nearly took my head off back there." He then scrutinized Ruzaki with fatherly glares and said, "And I'm watching you like a hawk, so don't even think about—"

"Senpai," Haruhi said, coming to Ruzaki's defense, "I thought we've been over this already. It was an accident, so lay off of him."

"I know that already, but don't you see what he's doing to our family? He's breaking up the nest!"

"No, he's not! You're the one brea—"

Before their verbal tussle escalated, Kyoya enacted the motherly role of the Host Club family. He tapped Haruhi on the shoulder and shook his head to quiet her and then leveled a glare at Tamaki, clamping a hand tightly on his shoulder with yet another demonic flash of his glasses. "Not in front of our guests, Tamaki . . . Unless you want to go up to them and explain your behavior during hosting hours. And the same goes for you two," he said, leveling the same glare at the twins, making them flinch and gulp. "After hosting hours are over, I'll call a club meeting to address these issues."

At this, the rest of the hosts reacted with Mori and Honey glancing at each other in silent acknowledgment as if they saw this coming, and Haruhi, Tamaki and the twins all getting ready to speak at once like a dysfunctional family at the dinner table.

Yet just like before, Ruzaki beat all of them to the punch and said, "Look, guys, I'm really sorry about all this."

Every host turned to the poet, seemingly caught in an awkward family moment, all of them mute for several seconds.

Then Haruhi said, "You don't have to be sorry for anything, Ruzaki-senpai. It was just an accident; but Tamaki seems to—"

"It's not that. I just don't want to be the reason things go downhill for anybody, and that includes you guys. Look, Haruhi, I'm grateful that you would go out of your way to do this for me, but . . ." And he let his words drift off into space.

"But what? What is it?"

Ruzaki looked at Haruhi and then at Kyoya, waiting for a cue from the Shadow King, who gave it with a nod of his head. Ruzaki sighed and said, "Haruhi, I . . . I haven't been completely honest with you. There's more to this than you know."

Haruhi followed his gaze, meeting Kyoya's eyes, before saying, "Kyoya-senpai, how much do you know?"

"Everything," Kyoya said, "which is more than Ruzaki told you. In fact, my research into his family connections has revealed . . . a crisis in his family during his mother's illness."

"Kyoya," Tamaki said, sensing something far more serious beneath the surface of their words, "is there something we should know about Ruzaki that you're not telling us?" He turned to the man in question and said, "Ruzaki, is there . . . something important you need to tell us?"

Though Tamaki hadn't an inkling of what that 'something' might be, he sensed in his quickening heartbeats an edge of reality that landed close to home. His mind raced with memories of Anne-Sophie de Grantaine when he still lived in France as a child, and for a moment his heart ached at the thought of her current illness amidst circumstances that echoed Ruzaki's. And for the first time, Tamaki looked at Ruzaki with a fresh pair of eyes.

"Yes," Ruzaki said, then looked over at the girls crowded around the coffee table, all of them talking amongst themselves, all of them with worried expressions and curious eyes. "I'm really sorry, Kyoya, but this is personal for me. I don't want the guests to overhear this. I've had enough rumors surrounding my actions as it is, and I don't want to add to them."

"In other words," Kyoya said, "you want me to close the Host Club, so you can talk freely? Is that it?"

"Yeah."

Kyoya thought about it, weighing the pros and cons of infringing on the guests' time at present, then nodded his head. He ambled toward the table of girls, informing them that Tamaki and the twins have awakened and announcing a premature closure of the club. The response was immediate. Several girls blurted out questions concerning the health of Tamaki and the twins, and Kimiko and Momoka asked if Ruzaki had done anything to force the host club to close. Under an assault of endless questions, Kyoya tried his best to calm the girls and herd them through the doors without causing a stampede. Girls marched under protest towards the doors with Kyoya shepherding Tamaki's and the twins' fangirls lingering at the threshold.

All the while, every host eyed Ruzaki and wondered how far the rabbit hole of his life went. But they weren't the only ones.

Ruzaki, unaware of their stares, had the same thoughts where he stood, a faraway look in his eyes. His thoughts focused on his parent's declining relationship in the last years of his mother's life. Even after all these years, he still found it as inevitable as fate, as irrevocable as death, as unforgivable as believing in a lie.

* * *

When the club members seated themselves, Ruzaki once again found himself at the center of unwanted attention. Sitting in a chair across from Kyoya enthroned in all his glory, the poet felt like a defendant asking for a royal pardon, and looking on either side at his peers took on drastic proportions. The twins on his left had scowls on their faces, crossing their legs and folding their arms in identical poses, while Mori sat like a statue staring at him, as inscrutable as a card shark. On his right, Haruhi and Tamaki sat with their hands on their knees, while Honey held onto his Usa-chan between them, all three staring at him with puzzled expressions and thinking God knows what.

He looked at Kyoya, who said, "Now before you begin, I must admit that you intrigue me more than most. You're full of contradictions—at once meek and daring, knowledgeable and ignorant, publicly modest and privately outspoken, conforming and rebelling, mediocre and talented, careful and reckless."

"Is that why you say that Byron and Keats fit me?"

"Yes, but there must be a reason for your actions. You're not the kind of person that would take risks on a whim, especially one that would compromise your own reputation. All my research can only give an indication of why you did so. In order for this club to help you, you must first help yourself and tell us why."

The poet looked down at his knees, clenching his hands into fists on his lap, trying to compose his thoughts. He said, "My mother's death affected me for a while, but I mostly got over it by the time I entered Ouran Middle School. Things went along okay, until I entered Ouran High School and opted for an English Lit. degree instead of a law degree. My father and I argued, of course, but it cooled off soon after that. So no; my argument with my dad over my major never caused a rift between us. It's what he said a few days after that angered me."

"And what is that exactly?" Kyoya said.

"It hinged on what my father said about my mother when he and I were talking at the main family mansion. My brother was there, too. Turns out my brother and father knew something about my mother that I never knew until they told me. My father said that he and my mother were fighting a lot the year before she became ill. It wasn't over anything major—no infidelity on either side, just the usual arguments over little details. The arguments just grew over time, till it boiled over just a month before she got diagnosed with bone cancer. By the time she got diagnosed, my father and mother barely talked to each other—at least, that's what my brother said after I left."

"Then what happened?"

Here Ruzaki paused, trying to compose his thoughts. His fists clenched over his knees, his expression darkened, and anger flared in his eyes just long enough to catch Tamaki, Honey and Haruhi off guard and make the twins lose their scowls. "My father said my mother used her illness against him; he said she filed for divorce during her illness, blaming him for the stress caused by all their arguments; he said she filled my head with a bunch of nonsense about poetry; he said she manipulated me into believing I could become a poet just to spite him! After that, I stormed out of the mansion and moved to a family mansion here in Bunkyo, Tokyo; I lost all my respect for him since then."

"So it was the reverse?" Tamaki said, shock etched onto his face and creeping into his voice. "You actually disowned your father, instead of him disowning you?"

"Yeah. Hell, I didn't even want his money, either. He offered to pay my living expenses, but I wouldn't have any of it," and then he sighed. "It wasn't until my brother, Akira, talked to me and said that he would take care of my living expenses at the second mansion. He asked me to be reasonable, so I relented, albeit grudgingly. I only wanted a small sum, because I didn't want to feel too dependent on anyone, and my brother agreed to it, though we argued a bit at the end when he sent it under my father's name instead of his own. He said it would raise too much unwanted attention if it were otherwise, so I eventually relented. Then I told him to get the out; I was still really angry at him for being in cahoots with my father the whole time. I rarely spoke to my brother after that, and I haven't spoken to my father since I moved out."

"Geez, Senpai," Haruhi said, looking on the poet in confusion and pity. "I never thought you could hold a grudge like that."

Then Honey said, "Is this what you don't want our guests to overhear?"

The poet looked at Honey's big eyes, saying, "Yeah. I'm really sorry about this, guys."

"_Are_ you sorry, Toyoda?" Kyoya said, disbelieving his apology and staring hard at the poet. "Because I honestly don't believe you're sorry for any of it. Instead of your father bringing this on you, you brought all this on yourself just to spite him, exactly as he said."

"That's not true at all."

"Oh, really? Can you justify such actions without including an element of spite on your part? Because it sounds to me that you're doing exactly what your father said, that you're doing this out of anger."

"I said that's not true!" Ruzaki said, bolting off his chair. "Why do you keep blaming me for this?"

"Because you're the one who acted first, Toyoda, not your father. You're the one who moved away. You're the one who refused to talk to him. You're the one who refused to reconcile, even after he offered to help you out in your new situation. That's rather ungrateful of you. So once again," Kyoya said, "why are you really doing this? Is it spite?"

"No! How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Is it your mother?" Haruhi said.

Ruzaki stopped and stared at the cross-dresser. "Yeah."

"In other words," Tamaki said, following Haruhi's train of thought, "are you doing this to protect your mother's reputation?"

The poet just stared at the man and felt his knees buckling under his weight, till he finally collapsed onto his chair and breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he no longer had to keep it bottled up inside but terrified at the realization of a darker reality. As stupid as Tamaki had been throughout today's club activities, this jester had divined the truth. "Yeah."

"Then does that make you a mama's boy?" the twins said, in unison.

"Guys, that's not funny!" Haruhi said.

"Oh, come on, Haruhi," Hikaru said.

"We were just trying to lighten the mood," Kaoru completed.

"Well, you're not help—"

"I'm just afraid that . . ." Ruzaki continued, cutting off Haruhi mid-sentence, then letting his words drift into space.

At this, all heads turned in his direction. All the hosts saw him staring off into space, his expression sullen, his eyes downcast, as if thinking on some painful thoughts.

"Afraid of what?" Haruhi said.

"I'm afraid . . ." And still, he couldn't say it. Even after revealing the deepest secret of his failings for all to poke and prod at, the poet still could not bring himself to say what really troubled him. So he gathered his courage, took a deep breath and said, "I'm afraid that my father was right about my mother, that she manipulated me into believing a lie, that she used me to her own ends just to cause my father grief . . . That she hated my father more than she loved . . ." _Me_, Ruzaki thought but couldn't say. He just looked down, avoiding everyone's eyes, tears threatening to well up.

Though Ruzaki never voiced the last word, every host filled in the blank and got the gist of his worries.

Only then did the Hitachiins relax their hostile poses and look on the poet with a new set of eyes, both twins remembering their favorite nanny's betrayal of their trust when they were little. At his words, Honey remembered his own betrayal of his code of honor to resist eating sweets, gorging on them at night when everyone was asleep, only to have Yasuchika catch him in the act. Mori dreaded the thought of forgetting to remind his little charge to brush his teeth. Even Kyoya, fire-forged in the in the kiln of his father's standards, remembered his first and only admission of weakness to Tamaki.

Only then, after thinking of his words, did Haruhi say, "Don't think about that, Senpai. Your mother loved you through all of it, even at the end. It's just that people's emotions get the better of them sometimes and make them do things they wouldn't normally do. You just have to believe in her as much as she believed in you."

"Even if it's a lie?"

His question left Haruhi silent for a spell, not knowing what else to say.

That's when Tamaki let go of his resentment for the poet and said, guiding the subject to less dangerous waters, "Toyoda, how's your Shakespeare?"

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Oh, I'm not trying to change it," Tamaki said. "I just want you to see your problem in a different light, because it seems to me your father's words have led you astray."

At this, Ruzaki raised his head and met Tamaki's eyes. "What do you mean?"

"'Those lips that Love's own hand did make  
Breathed forth the sound that said 'I hate'  
To me that languished for her sake:  
But when she saw my woeful state,  
Straight in her heart did mercy come,  
Chiding that tongue that, ever sweet,  
Was used in giving gentle doom  
And taught it thus anew to greet . . .'" Tamaki quoted. "Do you know what sonnet that is?"

"Yeah. That's 'Sonnet 145' from _Shakespeare's Sonnets_."

"Indeed, my good sir. Let's put your poetic prowess to the test, shall we?" said Tamaki. "In the simplest terms, what does 'Sonnet 145' mean?"

"Well, besides being an allusion to Shakespeare's own relationship with his wife, Anne Hathaway, it means that the Poet is so devoted to his Dark Lady that any word of reproach from her is extremely painful. But this has nothing to do with my situation at all."

"Ah, but it does. Don't you see the connection? You're the Poet, Toyoda, and you're mother's the Dark Lady of that sonnet. You're so devoted to your mother's memory that any reproach from her (even the slightest hint of one about her from your father's lips) is calamitous to you."

"That's why I left."

At this, Tamaki took a good long look at the poet and said, "Do you really think your mother wanted that for you?"

Ruzaki paused, looking down. "I guess not."

"I didn't think so either. Listen, Toyoda, if you truly want to honor your mother's memory, don't do it by dishonoring your father out of hatred. Real men honor their mothers by proving themselves worthy of their devotion. If you truly believe in your mother's good intentions, then fight for her! Prove yourself in the eyes of your peers by becoming the best poet you can be!"

"Okay, okay, I get it. Still, do you really think I have what it takes?"

"I can't answer that for you. You chose to become a poet, so you'll have to answer that for yourself."

The poet just stared at the man for several moments, wondering what to say. This clown of a man had uttered yet another amazing truth that Ruzaki had difficulty answering in his own heart. In the end, he could only say one thing. "You're a good man, Suoh. I'm sure your grandmother will see that some day."

* * *

4:55 p.m. at the Third Music Room saw Kyoya briefing all the hosts (including Ruzaki) on the next days' hosting activities. Each member suggested and decided on various poetic eras with the Renaissance on Wednesday, the Victorian and Meiji eras on Thursday, the Enlightenment and Romantic eras on Friday to go with the big poetry recital on Saturday. In addition, Kyoya and Tamaki agreed on the cosplay corresponding to each era, while the twins offered the use of their mother's designs from her newest line of historically inspired fashions.

Once Kyoya noted these preparations in his notebook, he retained the group around the coffee table to discuss the very things that Ruzaki dreaded. "Tamaki, Hikaru, Kaoru, we have much to discuss about your incompetence today."

At his words, Tamaki and the twins were about to speak in their defense, but Kyoya cut them off. "But let's concentrate on Toyoda's case, first." He then faced the poet himself, pinning the poor man to the chair with another of his cloak-and-dagger smiles. "Now I won't go into too much detail on my impressions, but I will say this: Your actions, misguided as they are, have shown you a brave and noble man. You risked more than most to get yourself into your current position for the sake of your mother's memory. As such, you have the makings of pure genius on the strength of your daring, and your use of dark introspective imagery reflects this. Yet one thing you lack, Toyoda, is finesse and tact."

"In other words," Ruzaki said, resigning himself to each fault like a lashing on his back, "I have power but not control."

"Exactly. The power to move the heart is nothing without the ability to think it through. Every poet, every novelist and every sales pitcher depends on thinking through the message each creates for every poem, every novel and every sales pitch. Tamaki, Haruhi, Honey-senpai," he said, "what are you thoughts?"

"Hmmmmm," Tamaki mused. "If I had to choose your greatest weakness, it's your inferiority complex. My solution to that would be to flip it into a superiority complex, so you can better take advantage of those dark brooding qualities you have."

"Oh yeah?" the poet said, feeling that one remark constricting around his throat like a noose. "How do you do that, then?"

"You do it by seeing people from a lower perspective than you. That way, even if you mess up, people won't notice your mistakes."

"And what if they _do_ notice those mistakes?"

"Even then, you'll bounce back with another opportunity to capture their hearts," he said, getting all poetic in his growing revery of self-proclaimed greatness. "You see, in our beautiful world, no matter who you are (poet or host), our mistakes don't define who we are."

"And why's that?"

"Ah! You and your cynicism!" Now getting miffed at the poet's persistent questions, Tamaki faced the poet and said, "In our world, there are no mistakes, only opportunities we take advantage of for the entertainment of our guests."

"And for potential readers, as well?" Ruzaki said.

"That's what I've been trying to tell you!"

"So if my mistakes are as intentional as my successes, I now have two avenues of moving my readers."

"You finally get it, yes!"

"You still need to overcome your stage fright, though," Haruhi chimed in.

Her observation hit Ruzaki like a kick to the balls, sending him tumbling head over heels into the whirling twilight zone of shame. At her words, the poet slumped in his chair as white as a sheet of paper, saying, "I guess you're right about that . . . I still haven't completely overcome my stage fright."

"But don't worry too much about that. You'll get used to it."

The poet just stared at the cross-dresser, his eyes wide and his pupils shrunk the needle points, thinking, _That's easy for you to say! Asking me to get used to stage fright is like asking me to place my hand in the fire and getting used to that!_

"That's a tall order for me," he said.

"But I believe in you, Senpai. When you talked about other people's poetry to all our customers, sure, you made mistakes and even scared them out of their wits, but . . . You had them hanging on your words the whole time. In fact, you had _everyone_ hanging on your words, and you said some really powerful things that few people would dare think about, let alone talk about. If you can do that just by talking about other people's poetry, just imagine what you could do with your own poetry."

At such a stirring soliloquy, Ruzaki shifted in his chair and averted his lingering eyes before Tamaki and the twins caught him staring at their 'secret princess', a smile forming over his lips. "I didn't think about it that way. Thank you, Haruhi, for showing me."

"No problem," she said, thinking nothing of her own words—or of Ruzaki's smile.

But Tamaki and the twins noticed and steeled their eyes at the thought of this poetaster gaining any sort of advantage in attaining Haruhi's favor; but none of them spoke, lest they risked incurring the ire of a testy Kyoya.

Honey then said, tears welling up into his eyes, "And please vary the topics, Ruza-chan. All the topics you chose were really scary, and I don't like being scared all the time!"

"Okay, okay, I'll try to do that! Just stop crying," Ruzaki said, sensing a tinge of anger in Mori's momentary glance, as he tried to comfort Honey.

Mori, it seemed, still resented the poet for causing his charge to nearly strangle him into oblivion. So he said, "Observe people closely," adding so the poet got exactly what he meant, "so things won't _escalate_."

The poet noted the emphasis on the last word and gulped, nodding his head frantically.

With that, the Hitachiins were the last to give their views on the poet, views that pretty much damned the man in their jealous eyes. They resumed their hostile sitting positions, crossing their legs and folding their arms, scowls on their faces.

"Hikaru, Kaoru, care to share your thoughts?" Kyoya said.

Both twins exchanged looks, then said, in unison, "We'll be honest here, so don't take it too personally."

"Truth is, Ruzaki," Hikaru said, "you're an open book. You need to learn how to control your emotions, or you'll never control the use of your own words."

"And you do that," added Kaoru, "by embracing who you are. Both the good—"

"And the bad," Hikaru completed.

Then both brothers said, in unison, "Do you know what we mean?"

"Yeah, I think I do," Ruzaki said, gulping at their evil doppelgänger grins.

"I guess we'll see about that," both brother said.

Looking at either twin, the poor man hadn't the slightest clue what they were talking about, let alone which brother was which. Whatever plans they had turning in their sick minds meant only one thing—hell. _No wonder they're called the little devil types_, Ruzaki thought. _Dear God, help me_.

When the twins finished, Kyoya said, "Now that everyone has said their piece, would anyone here want to add anything else?"

All the hosts exchanged looks with each other, Tamaki, the twins and Mori giving the poet uncomfortable glances that made him fidget in his chair, and all shook their heads.

"Good." Then Kyoya got up and checked his watch, showing 5:03 p.m. on the dial. "There's just enough time for one last order of business before we go. Ruzaki, Haruhi, Honey-senpai, Mori-senpai, you're all free to go."

Everyone stood up, while Tamaki and the twins struggled to their feet on spaghetti legs.

"But what about Tamaki, Hikaru and Kaoru?" Haruhi said.

"Leave that to me. I'll talk to them privately about their misconduct during hosting hours," he said, herding Haruhi and the three other hosts out the double doors of the Third Music Room, "but don't worry about them, Haruhi. They'll be their normal selves by tomorrow."

At this, Tamaki and the twins turned to their president pro tempore in abject fear, all three thinking horrendous thoughts at the hands of the Devil Incarnate.

"Well, okay then. Just make sure they come back in one piece. We don't want anybody getting cold feet, you know." Then she stalked off through the halls along with Ruzaki, Honey and Mori.

Kyoya looked at the cross-dresser disappearing down the halls and smiled. Only a commoner with a lot of nerve (like Haruhi) would dare use Kyoya's own words against him and expect to escape unscathed.

As for the trio of delinquents, on the other hand, he had _other_ plans. When he shut the doors, sealing their fates with a click of the door latch, he turned and found the trio cowering behind one of the solon sofas like cowards. What transpired afterwards in this room shall remain as unfathomable as the depths of Kyoya's awesome power.

* * *

When Ruzaki saw the limo pulling up at the gates, he ran to the vehicle and waved it to a stop, thinking it was his own limo. But once he stopped and got a closer look at the license plate on the back bumper, he sighed and felt a vein bulging from his forehead, thinking, _Damn it, Akira, what the hell are you doing here?_

When the window slid down, it revealed a harried Akira Toyoda staring up at him, the same dark hair and eyes, the first outcroppings of stubble growing from his chin. And unlike most passengers, Akira opened his own door for his younger brother to enter. "Get in, Ruzaki. I need to talk to you. It's important."

But the poet stood his ground, folding his arms across his chest. "If it's Dad, you can forget it. I'm still not changing my mind."

The young man sighed and said in a lower voice, "Please, Ruzaki, don't make this harder than it already is. Just get in the car, and I'll explain on the way to your place."

"What, is the company still losing money?" Ruzaki said, ducking into the passenger seat and swinging the door shut. "You know I'm not interested in that kind of stuff."

"You will be after you read the paper," he said, flicking on the ceiling light and handing Ruzaki the day's _Tokyo Times_ installment. "It's on the front page. You can't miss it."

The feature article of the day showed the remnants of one of the company's signature cars totaled in a ditch close to a highway. The front of the vehicle was crumpled, and the hood and part of the roof was sheered off, making the make and model virtually impossible to make out in the caption. And emblazoned across the page in big kanji and hiragana characters read, 'U.S. RECALLS MILLIONS OF TOYOTA VEHICLES,' while the smaller subtitle read, 'Faulty Gas Pedals And Brakes Are The Cause'.

"So what?" Ruzaki said, folding the newspaper and dropping it on the seat. "This doesn't have anything to do with me."

This stopped Akira cold for a moment, in the middle of loosening his tie, as he stared at his younger brother like he had marbles for eyes. The man just stared at him, shocked and . . . well . . . stunned. Never had he heard such callous remarks from his own brother. "Is that really you talking? Or is it resentment for your father? Because from what you've just said, you don't give damn what the hell happens to your family!"

"Look, Akira, I didn't say that! All I said was that I just don't think this applies to me. That's all."

"But it does apply to you, no matter what you think," Akira shot back. "You may not wanna hear this, but your name _means_ something to people, and when you go around defying your own family, it breeds contempt in the eyes of your peers. Don't you realize that?"

"They can think whatever they want. I don't care. I just want to live my life by my own rules in my own way without having anyone control what I do or say. Is that too much to ask? I just want people to stop judging me for what I am all the time!"

"So what are you, then?" Akira said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking his brother dead in the eyes.

"I'm a poet!" he said, matching his brother, glare-for-glare. "God, how many times do I have to tell you?"

"Then can you tell me _who_ you are?"

His brother's question left him unable to respond, for he had yet to figure it out. He simply wavered for a moment longer before averting his eyes. He said, "I . . . I still haven't found it yet," then lapsed once again into silence.

"Then I'll tell you," Akira said, relaxing his ridged pose but keeping his eyes fixed on him. "You're lost, and you've been lost ever since our mother died. You and I were in the same boat when that happened; we felt the same pain, cried the same tears, but the biggest difference between you and me was that _you_ can't seem to put it behind you. You just have to return to it over and over again like a broken record. _That's_ who you are—a broken record. You're so wrapped up in your own little world that you can't see what good you still have left in it."

Ruzaki couldn't respond. His mind fluttered with images of bygone vacations, Christmases and holidays spent with their mother and father together, images of life and love and happiness, only to get shattered to pieces in a blur of burgeoning tears threatening to overflow.

Both brothers remained silent throughout the rest of the ride to Ruzaki's mansion, both lost in their own thoughts, until the limo drove up the driveway past the gate and around the fountain and parked at the entrance of the house. Then the chauffeur walked up and opened the door for Ruzaki, but he stayed there in the back seat with his brother.

When he got up to go, Akira said, "I'm sorry for bringing her up, Ruzaki."

The poet turned, eying his brother but not saying a word.

"Just remember what you have left and be grateful you still have it. Even if you can't bring yourself to reach out to Father, you can always reach out to me anytime." And with that, his brother reached over and shut the door, and the limo circled the fountain before driving back through the gate.

The poet just stood there, viewing the fountain in his driveway after losing sight of his brother's limo. He saw the still water in the fountain reflecting the twilight of the sky like a mirror. He saw the lengthening shadows of the gate posts snaking their way imperceptibly across the lawn and shrubs, getting ready to swallow the house in shade and shadow.

"Master Toyoda?" the chauffeur said.

"Take my bag to my study," the poet said, handing him the bag. "I'll just stay here for a bit longer."

"Very good, Master Toyoda . . . Oh, and supper will be ready at 7:00 p.m.," the man added before entering the house.

Now all alone, Ruzaki observed the subtle changes of his surroundings. He then walked towards the fountain and noted the coincidence between this one and the one at Ouran Academy, right below the Third Music Room. Both fountains had cherubs, and both cherubs pissed into the water, but only his cherub ceased at this time of day. He then looked into the reflection and saw his face reflected back at him in the fading glow of twilight, closed his eyes and muttered rhymes only he could hear. He said,

"There goes my one and only hope on earth,  
And with it goes the sunset's final gleams  
Of twilight ere the stars proclaim Night's birth;  
And yet the Moon still hides her face, it seems.  
The milky stars above my head can hold  
My gaze, but only for a moment's time;  
And though the gleaming Moon will show her bold  
And brilliant face, I would not give a dime.  
For when I swore my mother's love forsworn,  
I did forswear the better part of me;  
And come tomorrow's clear and sunny morn,  
I've smaller hope for hate to set me free.  
Perhaps there'll be new hope by morning's light;  
Till then, I'm trapped inside this moonless night."

When he finished, Ruzaki opened his eyes and noted the one paradox that his genius required, the one that Haruhi had rightly pointed out. He could speak the words that stir the hearts of gods but cannot, for the life of him, write them down. And his stage fright didn't make this paradox any easier to bear.

So he resigned those rhymes to the air and returned to his house.

* * *

**(To be continued...)**

* * *

A/N: Hello, everyone... I told you I'd update this story really soon, didn't I? ( ^_^ ) Anyway, I think this might be the longest chapter I've written for this story yet. It's definitely one of the more angsty chapteers I've written. Again, I HOPE the character's aren't too OOC for you guys. So what do you think? Does this chapter work in setting up the major plot points? Who's your favorite character up to this point? What were you expecting? And what weren't you expecting? It's nice to hear your thoughts on this. Anyway, hope you enjoyed! ( ^_^ )


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